


Dropped/Cursed/Lifted/Loved

by KetamineKendra



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beast!Wade, Clockwork - Freeform, Deadpool being Deadpool, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Frottage, Graphic Depiction of Suicide, I Don't Even Know, Invisible servants, Love Confessions Gone Wrong, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaking, Meet the Family, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter can't cook, Sharing a Bed, Stuckony is background, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, and it's Wade so it's not like he's really dead, but hopefully a fun mess, but it's all in the notes, cat rescue, it's a mess, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 37,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KetamineKendra/pseuds/KetamineKendra
Summary: During a battle with the new villain of the week, Spiderman finds himself dropping through a portal and waking up in a world not our own. What is he going to find there that changes his life?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so let's get a few things out of the way. 
> 
> A posting schedule? Who's that?  
> Historical accuracy? Who's she?  
> Caring about cannon compliancy? I don't know her.
> 
> It's probably best if you don't look for accuracy of any kind here. Except grammar and spelling. I care about that. So let me know if I mess up. 
> 
> Please love!

Sometimes, Peter didn't really know why he did the whole Spiderman thing. Sure, it was really satisfying to be able to save people, especially from petty crime that the 'big' heroes didn't really bother with. But every now and then some big time villain came up to make his life a living hell. And were the Avengers ever there to help? No, of course not. That might mean Spiderman might not get his ass kicked. 

Well, even if he didn't have the Avengers helping him, he did have backup. 

"Damn it, Deadpool! No killing!" The merc always made him lose control of his tongue. He didn't really like cursing. Shooting another web, he tried to get the damn magic using, portal manipulating _jerk_ to stop attacking him. Lightning hurt! 

Deadpool let out a joyous laugh, at odds with the rough and smooth, whiskey and cigarettes sound of his voice. "Sorry, Spidey! Dat ass got me hypnotized!" 

Peter fought off a blush as he dodged another lightning bolt. He didn't bother saying anything else, though, as Deadpool was fighting with some animated mud in humanoid form - and how had the guy found enough mud to even make henchman? - and singing Hypnotize by Biggie, though it started off with Spidey, Spidey, Spidey. 

It seemed like they were finally winning. The villain - Peter refused to call him Portal Jumper because that was a shitty villain name, even coming from someone that had fought the Lizard - was shooting out smaller and smaller bolts of lightning, and his portals had stopped appearing altogether. Trying to put an end to the whole fight, Peter let himself get close. He was aiming for a dropping kick, hoping it would knock the guy out so they could get him into a SHIELD holding facility. The guy turned to look at him as he dropped, a smile on his face that made a small tremor run through his Spidey senses. Before he could sling a web and get himself a way, he fell through a shimmering purple portal.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up -
> 
> Consistent post length? I don't know her either

When Peter woke, it was to complete confusion. He wasn't on a New York street, he wasn't in his apartment or Avengers tower. It wasn't a single place he recognized, actually. It was a bedroom that didn't seem too odd, at first. There was a quilt over him, made out of a handful of different shades of blue, quite a few different fabrics making it up. The ceiling was white between exposed wooden beams. Glancing around, he saw a window, one of those odd ones made up of small pieces of glass about the size of his palm. The glass wasn't perfectly clear, either. Some pieces looked wavy and some cloudy, while a few others had tiny little bubbles trapped inside. That was odd enough, but when he looked to the other side of him, he saw a table with a few books, an oil lantern, and what he assumed was an alarm clock. It was made completely of gears and cogs and bolts. Instead of numbers, there was a bolt at each place on the clock face, and a large, slowly turning cog in the place of the twelve. It seemed to be making the hands move because each time it ticked forward, the second hand ticked forward too. Peter was so mesmerized by it that he jumped straight onto the ceiling when it let out a shrill ringing when it hit seven o clock. 

Or, he meant to jump to the ceiling. His body didn't comply. Instead, he jumped and slid off the narrow bed, straight onto the floor with a thump. For a moment, that stunned him more than being in a completely foreign bedroom. When he tried to activate his microhairs to stick to something, nothing happened. He tried to shift the bed since it looked solid and heavy. He could barely get it to budge. 

Somehow, he was human again. 

Chills were working their way down his spine when he heard something that stopped him. "Peter! Did you fall out of bed again? I told you not to put that silly clock near your head, it'd scare the teeth out of a chickens mouth, it's so loud." 

"Aunt May?!" Peter found himself standing up to go down the stairs. Maybe 'tried' to was a better description, though. He got tangled in the fabric pooled around his body and tripped, smacking his knee into the bed frame. When he looked down, he couldn't stop the look of dismay. A dressing gown? Seriously? He was in a weird ass room with his aunt calling him, without his powers, and he was in a dressing gown? 

Looking around, he found a chest at the foot of the bed. There were clothes there. A pair of brown pants that looked oddly proportioned, too short in the legs and too tall in the waist. The shirt wasn't much better. It looked baggy and way too long. He didn't see any other options, though, so he stripped out of the dressing gown, only to discover something else even more dismaying. 

"Where are my underwear?" 

It wasn't a phrase he'd expected to ever say, not after the disastrous one night stand in college where he'd eventually left without them because he'd figured out he'd taken someone to bed he really shouldn't have. 

Those memories weren't helping him right now. After lifting up the clothes, he found a pair of white shorts under them. Suddenly, a weird history lesson came to him. Men up through the middle ages wore something called braies, like a pair of undyed cotton shorts under their clothes. "You've got to be kidding me." Peter let him have one minute where he gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, cursing people with stupid magic as silently as he could. From what he could tell, he deserved it. Then, he pulled on the clothes. There weren't any buttons or zippers to hold the pants on him, which would really help because they sat very low on his hips, meaning they bagged awkwardly in his crotch. And it didn't help that they stopped just above his ankle, though he supposed if they were sitting how they were supposed to it would be in the middle of his calf. What good were capris? The shirt wasn't much different. The sleeves were loose and wide, with weird little strings attached to the wrists. And the damn thing fell to mid thigh. In the end, he just grabbed the excess fabric in one hand and headed down the stairs. He had heard Aunt May.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how obvious it will be so I figured I'd point it out. My goal is to not actually describe anyone beyond what is absolutely necessary for the plot. Why? So you can choose your own characters. You can decide if it's the comic version, or one of the movie versions. Of course, I have my own preferences, but I'm going to do my best not to push those on you.
> 
> Enjoy!

The stairs didn't creak, but they were just the slightest bit rough and uneven. Almost like they'd been hand made. Which was a weird thought he decided to just ignore until he had to think about it. Things were weird enough as is. Who made stairs by hand? Halfway down the stairs, he smelled something heavenly. Bacon and eggs and onions and bread. His mouth watered and he realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, when he'd split a bag of tacos with Deadpool. Just thinking about the fact that his yesterday was definitely not even close to his today just made his head hurt, so he ignored that, too. 

"May?" Peter made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked out, but all he saw was what he could only describe as a living room. There were three chairs, each with a warm looking blanket or a comfortable looking pillow on it. They all rocked. There was a fireplace and another clock, this one bigger and more ornate than the one in his room. Probably it didn't go off like his did. 

Following his nose to the left led him into a kitchen. It was the weirdest kitchen he'd ever seen, though. There were bundles of herbs and vegetables and, he assumed, cured meats hanging from the beams. There was a small fireplace, taller than it was wide, with a metal pot hanging beside it on a metal bar. He assumed that it could be swung into the fireplace when needed. There was also… A stove? It didn't look like a stove as he knew them, this one being all wires and cogs. But there was no mistaking the bright red coil and the smell of frying eggs coming from the pan on top of it. 

"Oh, Peter. You -" May turned to talk to him, and then humor flooded her face and she chuckled. "Were you that eager for breakfast? You couldn't even get dressed properly? Where are your socks? You could at least have tucked in your shirt and grabbed your belt. The food isn't going to walk away." 

Peter blinked at her. That was definitely his Aunt May, he'd recognize her anywhere. Even if she was wearing a pale green dress with a crisp white aprion, a white cloth holding back her hair. "Yeah.. My belt. I'll, uh, be right back?" He turned around and went back up the stairs, looking around the room until he found what he was looking for. The belt wasn't the traditional type. Or maybe it was and the type he was used to was the modern one? That was far too complicated of a thought. He tucked the shirt in and pulled the pants up, pulling the leather through the loops he'd just noticed at the top. When he had it all ready, it took him a second to figure out how to secure it with two metal loops and no tongue to speak of. Finally, he got it. Now the pants were slightly more comfortable, though he still wasn't happy with how short they were. He also found a pair of socks, which he pulled on and was intrigued to find went just past the bottoms of his pants. 

Back downstairs, Aunt May ushered him to a table, dishing out an impressive plate of eggs, bacon, homemade bread, and a side of onions. He found butter on the table, as well as honey and a steaming mug of what had to be tea. Quickly, he dug in. It didn't taste quite the way he expected it to, at once more flavorful but flatter. Still, it was delicious, and it was gone long before he was ready for it to be. He washed it down with tea sweetened with honey and then settled back against the chair, feeling like he was in a coma. 

When he heard May chuckle again, he looked at her. "What?" 

"I told you it wouldn't walk away." She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "And you're lucky you're not wearing it, what with not tying your sleeves." Reaching across the table, May grabbed his hand and positioned it beside her before grabbing the little strings at the end of his sleeve. She deftly tied a neat bow in them, then gestured for the other. When she was finished, Peter found that the sleeves were tight to his wrist and didn't get in the way nearly as much as he expected. 

He blinked at them. "Thank you." May just brushed it off before standing up to clear the table. He got up to help her and before long, the table was empty but for a pretty green vase with some daffodils inside it. 

"Are you going to see Mr Stark today?" 

"Uh..?" 

May rolled her eyes. "You said that was your plan for today last night over dinner. He said he needed your help with one of his metal men." 

"Oh. Um. Yes? I mean, yes. I'll go see him. Do you need me to do anything else?" Peter had no idea what he was doing or how to get back to his own world, but he figured going along with things would help him learn. Also, maybe Stark knew what was going on. May told him she was fine and he nodded before heading for the door. There were two pairs of boots there, and it was obvious which were his. They were dark brown leather, with a spider embossed into the side. What a spider had to do with him in a world where he didn't have his powers was a mystery, but they were far too big to be May's. 

Outside, it was like stepping into a dream. It looked exactly like a romanticized countryside. They were at the end of a street, with houses on either side. Each quaint little place was picture perfect, with flowers and bright paint. The road was good clean dirt and the air smelled like nothing but flowers and cooking. He had always favored the sciences over other subjects, but even he knew enough about history to know this wasn't exactly 'accurate.' There was no street muck, no smell of awful BO. And now that he thought about it, he wasn't itchy. Weren't fleas and lice the norm back then? It was like someone had decided they liked the aesthetic and did away with all the inconvenient realities. 

Peter walked up the street, wondering how he was supposed to tell where Tony lived. He made it to the middle of the village, arranged in a square around a fountain with small shops around. Trying to decide a direction to walk in, he looked down a street. Nothing jumped out at him. 

As he was turning to look down the next one, a hand grabbed him. Instinctively, he jerked out of it, cursing his Spidey senses and then remembering they were gone. He was so caught up in his frustration that he barely noticed his arm being grabbed again and his name being said. "Peter, my sweet. It's wonderful to see you this morning."

That voice sent chills down his spine and he turned his head to look at the speaker, feeling his stomach drop into his feet. 

Harry. 

He stared at him, confused and horrified. This was impossible! Harry was _dead_. "H-Harry?"

"The one and only." The man wore a smile, wide and conceited. It was even more jarring to see it than it was to see him at all. The last time they'd spoken, Harry had been insane with his hatred of Peter and Spiderman. "Now, since it's such a lovely morning, why don't you take a little stroll with me?" Peter didn't get a chance to protest before his arm was forcefully tucked into Harry's elbow and he was being walked out down a path toward what must have been his own manor, large and guarded. "I have something I wanted to speak to you about."

Peter didn't know what was happening, but he went along with it. He needed some kind of information, and he might get some if he went along with it. "What's that?" 

Harry smiled at him again, and patted his hand. "Why, our marriage, of course. Father is all set to get it together. All we need is your agreement and we can be married at the harvest festival." 

He'd heard and read the word thunderstruck but he'd never actually understood why it was a thing. In that moment, he did. He understood it intimately. He was shocked. He was practically speechless. What the hell? When he could get his mouth to cooperate with him, he cleared his throat. "Our marriage?" He wasn't even bothered by the way his voice cracked on the words. This was too big for him to be embarrassed by something so trivial. 

Harry smiled at him like what he was saying wasn't the single most insane thing Peter had ever heard. And he regularly hung out with _Deadpool_. "It's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it?" Peter blinked at him, opening his mouth to say that was the exact opposite of what he was thinking, but Harry continued. "I'm the most eligible bachelor in the village and my twenty fifth birthday is approaching, so I need a spouse so I can take over from my father. The only one nearly beautiful enough to be my spouse is you, the beauty of the town."

"The what now?" Peter couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth even if he'd wanted to. The most beautiful? Him? Granted, he didn't seem to need his glasses even though he had no powers, and he knew he wasn't hideous, but he definitely wasn't what he'd consider beautiful. 

"The village beauty, Peter! Don't act coy." Harry smiled at him like he thought that Peter was trying to fish compliments from him. "You know what they say about you. They've been saying it for years, ever since you grew from that awkward little boy you were. You remember, when we used to play together, until I needed to be taught by my father and you went off to learn from that _inventor_ , Stark."

No, Peter did not remember any such thing, but Harry had inadvertently given him the perfect excuse to leave. He pulled his hand from Harry's arm, ignoring him tightening his bicep to keep him there. "Oh, we'll have to talk some other time, Harry. I forgot I was supposed to meet Tony, I mean. Mister Stark. I'll see you around!" As soon as he had the space, he turned around and ran back to the village. 

What the hell was that about? 

In the middle of the village, he was about to pick a direction at random when he caught sight of a tower. That had to mean Stark! He started walking toward it, fast so as not to be possibly found by Harry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone figured out which fairy tale we're using?


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, my health took a nosedive straight down the drain. Pretty much did nothing but throw up and sleep, with a trip to the hospital somewhere in between all that. However, I'm feeling a little bit more normal so I'm hoping to get back to posting.

When he got closer to the tower, he started to wonder what exactly was going on with this world. The tower wasn't the grey stone structure that it had seemed from a distance. The spots that glinted in the sun were structures. There was a clock, quite like the ones in his house, but larger. There were weathervanes and cogs with chains. When he was finally at the tower, he saw that they were carrying boxes filled with bags up to the top, where strong arms reached through a window and grabbed them, pulling them inside. Then, an arm reached out and flipped a lever, sending the box back down. 

Peter felt his hope that Tony would be able to help him figure this out withering. It was still there, but it was not nearly as strong. Surely if this was a Tony that could help him travel through the multiverse or something, he'd already have mastered better technology. Sighing, he raised his hand to knock on the door. Before he could lay his knuckles against it, it was opened violently and Bucky was standing there. Peter jerked back in surprise, again cursing the lack of Spidey senses. He was growing to _hate_ being surprised. "Peter! You came! Tony wasn't sure you would, since it's getting toward noon." 

Staring at him for a second, he wasn't sure he'd ever heard Bucky say his name before. It was always just 'Spiderman'. "No, of course not. Wouldn't miss it for the world." 

Bucky smiled and held the door open wider, the sunlight streaming in and sparking off his arm. Peter's jaw dropped. This wasn't the sleek, plated metal affair that Bucky usually had. This was… Clockwork. Whereas, in _his_ world, Bucky's arm was basically the same size and shape as his flesh one, this one was abnormally thin. It was made up of three metal bars, one longer one for the upper arm and two thinner, shorter ones for the lower arm. Those bars were only seen in glimpses past the system of cogs and chains and pulleys that made the thing work. And it did work, because Bucky pulled it from his side and showed it to Peter. His hand was a hand, but it was made of even smaller chains and such, looking almost delicate. Because they were so small, it made his long 'fingers' appear almost spiderlike. "Do you like it? Tony and Steve finally found the perfect balance of mechanics and magic for it to move. Not like the last one that looked cool but was useless." 

Magic? It probably shouldn't be a surprise, considering he was in a _whole different world than yesterday_ , but for some reason, it felt too big to swallow. "Yeah. It looks really, uh, useful." 

Bucky smiled and then stepped around him out into the sun. "Go on up. Tony's in the workroom, you know where it is." 

He did not, but he figured it shouldn't be too hard to find. It was a tower, after all. Only one way to go and all that. He stepped inside and found himself in the living room, he supposed. It also had three chairs, but there the resemblance to the warm living room of Aunt May's house ended. It was decorated in a garish collection of blue, red, silver, gold, and white. It all clashed and it all looked lived in. He shuddered and made his way up the stairs. 

The next room was something he'd never seen before but he could guess at. It looked like a greenhouse had exploded in it, though there wasn't any glass in the windows. Vines and flowers were everywhere. There was also a fireplace with what he could only call a cauldron on it, faint pink smoke coming from it. It smelled like mint and roses, so he was pretty sure it wasn't dinner. Shaking his head, he moved up to the next room. 

There were counters everywhere. They lined the room and through the middle. It looked like there was just enough room to walk between them all and not an inch more. Every single one of them were covered in… Well, the only thing Peter could think to describe it was 'mechanics'. Pulleys, levers, bolts, cogs, chains, and wires. There were projects in varying degrees of completion everywhere. Across from him, directly under a window, there even seemed to be a man-shaped thing, covered in a sheet with only bright silver, clockwork feet sticking out. 

May's words came to him. _He said he needed help with one of his metal men._ Well, now he knew she actually meant a metal man. 

"Tony?" 

Tony turned to him, a pair of goggles on his head that made his eyes look four times as big. "Peter!" He pushed the goggles up on top of his head, making his hair stick up all around them. "I was wondering when you'd be by. Come here, help me with this." He waved him over and then showed him what he was working on. It was the hand of the man under the sheet. The hand looked like an unfinished version of the one attached to Bucky. 

Peter helped Tony for hours, handing him tools and holding things, even working on the hand himself. It was fascinating. The joints were so complex but looked deceptively simple. He asked questions and Tony was happy to talk on and on about it all, but Peter didn't zone out at all. 

He hadn't even realized he was hungry until Bucky came upstairs with a tray, Steve following behind him. Glancing out the window, Peter saw that from how high they were and how tall the tower was, there was only one more floor above them. Was it sectioned off into bedrooms, or was it all just one room? Did Steve and Bucky and Tony all sleep together? 

Before he could ignore that ridiculous thought, Bucky planted a kiss on Tony's head and set the tray on the only clear counter space he could find. Steve dropped a kiss on Tony's cheek and then started pulling chairs from places Peter wouldn't have guessed at. It didn't matter, he was too shocked. The three of them? That certainly wasn't something he would have expected. After a few seconds, he shook his head. Not his business. As long as they were happy and healthy and consenting. And considering how happy they all looked, they wouldn't appreciate being asked otherwise. 

Lunch was some soup, thick with vegetables and beef with a thick broth, and more fresh bread. He ate it happily, staying quiet while the other three all talked. His mind ran back to this morning with Harry. Apparently, he zoned out because he jumped when Bucky set his hand on his shoulder. "What?" 

Bucky chuckled. Steve smiled and took a sip of his tea. "What's got you so distracted?" 

"Harry wants to marry me." Peter didn't even think before the words came out of his mouth. It was almost comical how quickly the good mood vanished off of each of the men's faces. 

"Of course Harry wants the beauty of the village that isn't interested, he couldn't settle for that Mary Jane girl that's been mooning over him for years." Steve said, derisively. 

Mary Jane was here? 

Bucky scowled. "You didn't say yes, did you?" 

"What? No!" Peter was insulted. "Of course not." 

Tony nodded at him, patting his shoulder. "Good. Don't you worry, he'll get bored of chasing you when he realizes you really won't say yes. Then you'll be free of him." 

Peter nodded, a little confused. After that, it seemed the subject was dropped. Lunch was finished up and Tony started working on his man again, with Peter helping. 

That evening, as he went home, he worried that he'd run into Harry again, but he didn't. He made it back to May's door with nothing to delay him. They shared a supper of roasted chicken and vegetables, and then sat by the fire for a while. The whole time, Peter thought. How was he supposed to get back home? His last hope had been Tony, but he didn't seem to be the Tony from his world at all. Was he stuck here? Forever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have to add new end notes? What did I do?


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, again, don't expect consistent posting length. This is a short one so I don't mind giving it as a bonus today.
> 
> Enjoy!

His next morning in this strange new world was better than his first. Peter was still shocked by the alarm clock, but he didn't fall out of bed. He also didn't trip over a dressing gown because he'd gone to bed naked instead of wearing it. The clothes also didn't present a challenge today, though they were different colors than yesterday. His pants were a washed-out green and his shirt was a deep burgundy. 

Once he was dressed, he was able to make his way down the stairs, though he was a little dismayed to find that there was only bread and cold sausage on the table. After the wonderful meals he'd had yesterday, he was expecting more. Aunt May, in whatever universe, taught him manners, though, so he didn't say anything. "Where are you off to?" 

Aunt May was packing a few bags and tying them to others that were separated by a long thick strap of fabric. A hazy memory of pack saddles came to him. They had a horse? "You know I'm going to see my sister Jan, over in the next valley. I take this trip every summer. I'll be back in three days. Don't you worry." 

Of course, Peter couldn't explain that he wasn't really her Peter and he was going to be helpless without her, so he helped her pack and then watched her ride up the street on a horse that was far too beautiful to belong to a small family like theirs. He spent his day with Tony, able to avoid Harry since he now knew where he was going. 

That evening, as he was walking back home after sharing dinner with a sympathetic tower trio, he heard a whinny. Turning to look for the source of it, he found the horse that Aunt May had been riding running down the road toward him, eyes wide with fear. "Whoa, whoa." Did that even work on horses in real life? Well, it seemed to calm down some as it came to a stop in front of him, breathing heavy. He brushed his hands over his nose the way he'd seen people do on TV and tried to remember what May had called him. Phil? That was it. "Phil, it's okay. What's wrong?" He could have slapped himself for that. The horse wasn't going to talk. 

Something nagged him in the back of his brain, but he couldn't dedicate the time to figuring it out. He awkwardly climbed up onto the horses back and then directed him right back the way he'd come. He needed to figure out what had happened to May.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm currently rushing to finish this story so I can just keep posting a chapter a day, but we're currently at chapter twelve and no where near the end. So I guess I hope you're ready for a long one?

A few hours later, it was growing darker and colder. Peter tucked his hands into his armpits as he went, hoping Phil knew where he was going. Shouldn't he be there by now? Suddenly, he heard a howl that sent the hair on the back of his neck straight up. 

Wolves. 

Right on the heels of that realization was another one. It was enough to make him stop thinking about how cold he was and how scared he was. Peter looked up at the dark, cloudy sky above him. "Beauty and the Beast? Really?" The sky didn't have a response for him. 

Well, at least it let him know there was a way past the wolves. Taking a wild chance, he jabbed the heels of his boots into Phil, hoping that was enough to get him moving. It was, and it was almost enough to get him to fall right off the end of him because he wasn't holding onto the reins. Thankfully, he saved himself by grabbing the little handle thing at the front and holding on for dear life. 

It could have been minutes or hours of them running before a bleak, dark castle came into sight. Phil ran in through the gate and it closed behind him. It was enough to make the horse start slowing down, until he was at a slow walk by the time they made it to the steps outside the main doors. 

Peter slid off of Phil and looked around. It was snowing and Phil was shaking and puffing. He looked around, trying to find somewhere to bring the poor horse. "Allow me." A rough voice spoke behind him. 

Whipping around, Peter didn't see anyone. "H-hello?" 

"Go on inside and warm up, sir. I'll take care of the horse." The voice still sounded like it was coming from right near him, but Peter couldn't see it. Then, he saw the reins lift and gather as if someone was holding them together. But there was no hand there. Without waiting for a reaction, the invisible person took Phil off toward one of the other buildings. 

They were both out of sight before he shook himself. "Okay. Invisible servants. Can't say I wasn't expecting talking furniture, but I guess I can deal with invisible servants." Peter shivered and then made his way to the door, pushing at one. It swung open gently, revealing a long hallway with stairs to either side leading up. While it was warmer inside, he wasn't sure if it was because it was actually heated, or if it was because he was out of the wind. 

That didn't matter. Now that he knew what he was working with, he had a game plan of sorts. Though, he was really hoping he got rescued before he had to fall in love with some hairy beast. That sounded very uncomfortable. "Hello? I'm looking for my Aunt. I think she might be here?" Probably in the dungeons but that seemed like an odd thing to ask for, even from invisible servants. If there were any here. 

A light flickered on to his left, just past where the stairs started. Peter went toward it, following it through a doorway and down a hall as it moved. When it took him down the stairs, he took courage from the fact that he was pretty sure Beauty didn't get hurt in the stories, just held prisoner. 

At the bottom of the stairs, it was obvious they were in the dungeons. "Aunt May?" He didn't see anyone, but the light had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His own shadow prevented him from seeing much past it. 

"Peter!" He saw a hand move and he went to it. "Peter, you shouldn't be here. It's far too dangerous." 

Peter grabbed her hand. "I couldn't just leave you here. Come on, let's get you out." He stood up and started tugging at the door of the dungeon, hoping to force it open. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

The voice sent a chill of fear down his back. He recognized it, a little, but he was almost afraid to look. This was the Beast! Peter swallowed and tried to gather his courage. Knowing what was supposed to happen was suddenly quite a bit different than making himself do it. One more deep breath and he turned around to face the Beast.


	7. Chapter 6

It was a tall figure, but it was so wrapped in a cloak that Peter couldn't make out any features. Besides the cloak, the light was behind the man, even further obscuring any details. 

"I said, what are you doing here?!" The voice was even angrier now, warping anything about it that Peter may have recognized. 

Still, he knew the drill. "I came to set my Aunt free. You can't keep her here." 

"Can't?" The voice dropped, almost in humor, and that hint of recognition played at the edges of his mind again. "Boy, I am the lord of this castle, I can do as I please. She was trespassing." 

Aunt May coughed, giving Peter a cue. "You have to let her go. Can't you see that she's sick?" 

There was silence for a moment, just Aunt May's muffled coughing to break it. Peter wasn't sure what to do now. Had he messed up? That was how Beauty and the Beast went, right? It wasn't exactly his favorite so he wouldn't consider himself an expert, but he'd seen the movie enough times to know the basic gist. 

"And what will you give me in return for letting her go?" The voice was quieter now, curious but also disbelieving. 

At least he was on firm footing again. "Myself. Let her go and I'll stay instead." 

The man began to laugh and it was that moment that he recognized it. Peter opened his mouth to say the name but he found it froze in his throat. He couldn't say the other, either. So, apparently there was some rules here. In the movie, no one but the cursed ones knew that the Beast was actually a prince. Maybe knowing his name was too close to that. Still, it gave him an advantage. He could work with Deadpool, he'd been doing it for a long time. This would be easy. 

While Peter had been distracted by his thoughts, a servant must have come forward, because Aunt May was leaning on him. "Peter, no. You can't stay. You have your whole life in front of you. I'm just an old woman. It's okay if I die here." 

Peter held her for a moment, but was firm when he spoke. "No, May. You go on home. I'll be just fine. Don't you worry about me." 

"How touching." A hard hand shoved Peter into the cell. The door slammed before he could realize what was happening, and then a screaming Aunt May was being dragged up the stairs by the Beast. Peter turned to look, but the light was following and so disappearing from his view. How long would he be here? In the movie, it wasn't long at all, but this Beast seemed crueler than the movie one. He might be stuck here all night.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad to say that the chapter I'm working on is giving me a bit of trouble, but I'm hoping to wrangle it into submission soon. Until then, there's a chance updates will slow down until I get a good lead again.

Peter sat curled up in the corner of the cell until after sunrise. Or, he assumed it was sunrise, because a tray was brought to him holding breakfast. He couldn't actually see a window or anything to guess the time. All he knew was that hours had passed, he was hungry, stiff, and very cold. The tray was laid in front of him, a wonderful thing full of porridge and toast and sausage. "Thank you." 

"Don't worry about it. And sorry about this dreary cell. Vanessa is working on the master to get you a room where you can be comfortable." The voice was female and cheerful. 

"Vanessa?" The name sounded familiar to him, but he was distracted from trying to figure it out by another thought. How had it not occurred to him that they'd have names? That was completely ridiculous. Of course they had names. Even the stories where they were furniture gave them names. "And what's your name?"

The voice - girl? - laughed. "I'm Domino. Vanessa is the only one the master listens to, so she's taken up your cause." She pushed the tray a little closer. "Eat up before it gets cold. The master won't agree too quickly for you to finish breakfast." 

After that, Peter wasn't sure if she was gone. She wasn't speaking and that was the only indication he was going to have if she was in the room. The door was still open, so maybe after he ate he could sneak out? But he needed strength so he'd need to eat. He devoured the food before him, sipping the tea and wishing for coffee. Tea was fine and everything, but he really missed those iced macchiatos from the shop down the street. 

As soon as he'd finished all the food, the tray was picked up and taken away. The door closed behind Domino and Peter frowned. Well, there goes that opportunity. He sighed and leaned back in the corner. Now what was he supposed to do with his time? 

Enough time passed, and his stomach started grumbling again, that when the door opened again, Peter thought it was simply lunch. Instead, it opened to reveal… a key ring? "Hello, I'm Vanessa. What's your name? I don't think anyone's asked you yet." 

Still wrapping his head around the fact that he was talking to thin air, he shook his head. "Uh, Peter. Peter Parker." He tried to bow, though he wasn't very good at it. 

She laughed. "Oh, you're one to watch, I can see." Using the keys to point to the right, she seemed to be smiling. "Come. I'll show you to your room before lunch." 

It wasn't like there was any other choice. Stay in the dungeon, freezing, for another night, or follow the… Keys to another room that presumably had a bed and a blanket and windows. Not exactly a hard decision to make. He followed after her. 

They went up the stairs and down the hall, and then up the main stairs in the entryway. Since they had gone up the left side stairs, Peter assumed that they were going down the corridor to the left and automatically turned that way. The keys were instantly in front of him and he couldn't get his feet to move, though he didn't feel anything like hands on him. "No! You can't go that way! This is the West Wing. It is off limits to all but myself and the master. He will be extremely displeased to find you there." 

Peter nodded slowly. He should have been expecting that, right? Wasn't there a part of the castle Beauty wasn't allowed to go in and almost got herself killed after she did and threw a tantrum? "Okay. I won't. Promise." 

The keys stayed there for a moment more and then moved again. This time, Peter followed. They passed one corridor, which he assumed would be the North Wing? Before going to the next, which he was going to call the East Wing even if no one else did because it sounded cool to say he lived in a whole wing. Finally, he figured out why Vanessa was carrying the keys. He'd been wondering if it was just so he could see to follow her, but apparently, it was to open the door. 

Inside there was a rather luxurious looking room. Everything was decorated in pale blue, light gold, and white. There was a giant bed and a vanity, a dresser and a chair and table near the window. There was even a door leading off of the room that, when Peter leaned in a little to take a peek, held a bathroom. He looked around and smiled, though Vanessa had either left or left the keys in the door. "It's lovely. Thank you." 

"No need to thank me. Just eat your lunch." A tray came in just a second after she spoke and was set on the table. "Uh, thank you. Domino?" 

"That's me." The playful voice came through no problem. 

Peter bit his lip for a second. "Do you have a way to visually tell each other apart? I mean, for me to do so? I just want to be able to know who I'm talking to and maybe not get so shocked when I'm suddenly with someone?" He held up his hands. "If it's not too much trouble or insulting or anything." 

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Vanessa laughed. "We'll try to figure something out. Even if it's announcing our presence before we enter the room or something." They left the room after that, and Peter sat down to eat his lunch of cold cut sandwiches and a small salad, though there was water instead of tea to drink. It was a pleasant change. 

When he was full, he picked his tray up and then opened the door, setting it in the hallway like at a hotel because he didn't know what else to do. Then, he decided to investigate the wardrobe. Everything inside was similar to what he had at May's house, but of an obviously higher quality. Instead of cotton, there was silk and something soft and thin but not see through. Peter wasn't even close to an expert on fabric so he didn't even try to think of the name of it. He grabbed an outfit, a plain white shirt and dark blue pants, and then made his way to the bathroom. A hot bath sounded wonderful.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one. Maybe if I can get all the way through the chapter I'm currently writing today, I'll post another chapter to make up for it being so short.

While in his bath, Peter had racked his brain for every bit of information he had about the various tellings of the story he now seemed to be in. It wasn't exactly a long list, since he'd preferred Robots and Meet the Robinsons as a kid, but he knew a bit. He'd hung out with girls, after all. 

So, the first thing he'd noticed was it seemed to take a while for Beauty to warm up to the Beast, being angry over him imprisoning her father or whatever. Well, that wasn't going to be an issue for him. Wade had just taken May basically as a plot device to get _him_ here. So he wasn't mad about it. There was also the fact that Peter didn't really need to warm up to Wade. It was _Wade_. He already knew him. Sure this version was probably going to be more aggressive than annoying, but Peter was sure he could work with that. It'd be fine. 

Sure, the falling in love part of the whole spell breaking thing was a little… intimidating. Hopefully he figured a way out of this before it came down to that, and he could leave all that to the real Peter who belonged here. It wasn't like _he_ could fall in love with _Wade_. That was completely and utterly ridiculous. Besides the fact that they were just friends, regardless of Wade's flirty banter, there was like a really big age gap. Peter was only twenty four and Wade was… somewhere higher than thirty five. That was all that Peter knew for sure. And it could be more here! Wasn't the castle said to be cursed for hundreds of years?

 _But if that's true, how did the people in the village know the people in the castle in that live action movie? Wouldn't the people that knew the castle people be dead?_ Peter shook his head as the thought was not helpful. 

So, obviously, he would need to be rescued before the curse was broken. Since he had absolutely no idea how to go about that, he hoped someone in his world was working on it. Probably Wade, his Wade, with his dimension-hopping, multiverse-seeing crazy. 

That was some comfort, at least. 

The water was starting to grow cool around him so Peter got himself out of the tub and drained it before reaching for a towel. Once it was wrapped around his hips, he went into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed. It was warm here and he was completely content to just nap until something happened. So that's what he did.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy  
> Just enjoy it, yo.

Peter napped until there was a polite knock on the door. He was still blinking awake, trying to decide if he'd actually heard it, when the next knock came. This one was not polite at all, but it somehow didn't bother him. He recognized that impatient, rapid booming. That was all Wade. 

Jumping up to open the door, he realized he was naked. That's what he got for falling asleep on a towel. He stared down at himself for a moment and then groaned. "Uh, just a, just a minute. I'll be right there. I'm not decent yet." 

Looking around, he was confused. Hadn't he picked clothes out before he took the bath? Where the hell had he put them? How could he lose a whole outfit in two rooms? Finally, he decided to check the bathroom, but it wasn't fast enough apparently. 

He heard a whistle. 

Turning his head, slowly, in horrified fascination, he saw the cloaked and hooded figure that was this dimension's Wade Wilson. After that, it was like his entire body lit on fire with how quickly he blushed, from his face all the way down to his stomach. That burned the last of his silence away. "I told you I'd be right there!" 

"Didn't feel like waiting." That was the easy reply. That high handed, overindulge asshole. "Besides, wouldn't want to miss that view." 

If Peter had his web slingers in that moment, he would truss Wade up like a spiders dinner and leave him there for a week. As it was, he hung onto what dignity he could and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. For a moment, he just stood there, fuming. Why was he even surprised? This was Deadpool. He literally sang songs about Peter's ass on a regular basis. This was actually a step _below_ that craziness. He coaxed himself into taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down. When he was feeling more charitable, he looked for his clothes. 

Which he found. In a puddle. On the floor. 

Peter gaped. How the hell had that happened? Now what was he supposed to do? He'd been banking on being able to get dressed in here. And now he had to go back out there? _Naked?_ Because there wasn't a towel in here. Apparently he'd used the _only_ one and now there wasn't so much as a washcloth. "Just let me die." 

It took a few minutes to get his nerve up to go back out there. First, he peaked out, hoping that Wade had gotten bored and left. No such luck. He tried to keep his head up, but he could feel that blush flaming across his skin again. It only got worse when he glanced out of the corner of his eye and watched that cloak covered head following him the whole way. He stopped at the wardrobe and quickly grabbed clothes, not caring if they matched. That was a little bit of a mistake because he ended up in tight blue pants and a red silk shirt. At least the belt didn't have any spider designs on it or he'd probably die of the irony. 

Once he was properly dressed, Peter turned to Wade and crossed his arms, trying to be unintimidated by the hulking, dark figure alone in a room with him. But really, did he have to try? He knew Wade. He would never force himself on anyone. Make lewd comments and innuendo, for sure. Cop a feel and beg for more, definitely. But force himself? Never. After that little pep talk, it was easier to be a little more relaxed. "And why were you pounding on my door?" 

"I was going to tell you dinner is ready and it's time to eat." 

Peter raised a brow. "You? The master of the castle came upstairs to tell me that dinner was ready? Don't you have servants for that?" 

A growl came out from under the hood. How was it deep enough that he couldn't see Wade's face? He knew what it looked like, it wasn't like he was going to be disgusted." It wasn't a request." 

"Well, that's very rude, considering I wouldn't have said no even if it was." Peter shook his head snootily and then went to go find socks and boots. He smiled when he heard Wade laughing behind him. _Befriend the Beast, quest begun._


	11. Chapter 10

After Peter was dressed, he followed Wade down the stairs. On the way, he debated. "Is there anything I can call you? I mean, I don't want to keep calling you Cape Guy in my head." He didn't think the white lie was a problem, considering he couldn't actually _say_ what he called him. "And calling you master just brings up a whole kink thing that I just don't feel like dealing with right now." 

There was silence in front of him for a long time. Peter was about to say to forget he asked when Wade stopped abruptly on the stairs and turned to him. His momentum was too much to stop at that point and he kept going until they were chest to chest. Peter looked up into the hood with wide eyes, but he still couldn't see under it, just the barest suggestion of a jawline and lips. "Wade." 

"What?" Peter wasn't sure what just happened. 

"You asked what you can call me. I'm telling you, you can call me Wade." 

Peter was a little distracted by seeing that hint of a lip curve up into a smile, but he nodded. "Okay. Wade." He held out his hand to him, which made him suddenly very aware of how close they were. Taking a hasty step back, he tripped but regained his balance on the next stair up. Then, he held up his hand again. "I'm Peter." 

Wade looked at the offered hand for a second, then gingerly took it in his own. Finally, Peter got a hint as to what he was dealing with. Wades skin wasn't seeping or cracked and bleeding. It was just… skin. Scarred and probably too tight, but it was just skin. Like the skin that the Wade from his life had. Once they shook, Peter smiled widely at him. "Nice to meet you, Wade." 

"... And you, Peter." Came the slow reply. 

After introductions, Wade turned and continued down the stairs, talking about who knew what. Peter certainly didn't, he was too busy trying to ignore the slight tingle in his hand. 

He'd finally managed to push it from his mind when he was at the table. Seeing that there was, quite literally, room for twenty people between their place settings on opposite ends of the table, Peter rolled his eyes. After seeing which place setting Wade went to, he went to the other and grabbed the plate and silverware, carrying it down the table until there was just one place between him and Wade. Then, he went back for his napkin and cups, setting them all back up haphazardly. Then, he plopped in his seat and smiled over at Wade. 

Even if he couldn't see below the cloak, he could tell that Wade was staring at him. "What?" He reached up to touch his face, though he already knew what he was staring for. "Is there something on my face?" 

"You're sitting next to me. On purpose." Wade finally answered. 

"Well, of course. How else are we supposed to talk over our meal? We'd have had to shout if I sat all the way down there." Peter shrugged and then sat back as his dinner was brought out. And it soon became obvious that it was _his_ dinner because all the serving platters were placed on his left side, the opposite side of Wade. 

He started to serve himself as another, bigger platter was dropped off. Before it was opened, Wade held up a hand to make the servant wait. "You may want to move back down there. What I eat… It isn't pretty. Or appetizing to most." 

Peter blinked at him for a moment. "I can assure you, there's almost nothing you can eat that will gross me out." He suppressed the shudder at the memory of walking in the park one day, finding a woman eating live slugs by the handful. Nope, nothing grosser than that. The tray stayed on for a few more moments before Peter gestured with his fork to go ahead. "Come on. You must be starving. Get to it."

Finally, the hand went down. The cloche came off the tray and revealed a very large serving tray of… well, meat. Raw meat. Still bloody and possibly-used-to-be-running-within-the-last-hour raw meat. 

And you know what? Yeah. Still not grosser than slugs. Peter looked at it for a second and then shrugged before going back to his excellent au gratin potatoes. "Your chef is amazing. Even my Aunt can't make potatoes this good." He served himself a second helping, but made himself try the roasted chicken before he dived in. 

"Thank you." Wade still hadn't eaten. 

Peter looked at him. "Aren't you going to eat?" He felt like a pig. Already through one serving of potatoes and half a serving of chicken and Wade hadn't even started yet. 

"It's messy." Wade said it like it explained everything. 

Blinking at him, Peter did his best not to yell. "Yeah, I can see that. It's looks pretty, uh, juicy." 

".. And I can't wear my cloak while I eat." Wade said it, but his voice wasn't as booming as usual. 

Well, that was probably the actual problem, then. Peter looked at him and nodded again. When Wade didn't take it off, he rolled his eyes. "Wade, I've felt your hands. There's nothing that your face is going to do to freak me out or scare me. Just take off the cloak and eat something before you pass out of malnutrition." He couldn't very well say he knew what his face looked like already, so that was the next best thing. 

Still, it took a little while before Wade finally pulled the cloak down. Peter looked at him, of course, curious what this world had reaped on him. It wasn't all that different from what he had in Peter's world, with two important differences. 

The first being that his ears weren't normal, human ears. They were too far up, starting above his eyes instead of at the same level. They were also triangular, but longer and rounder than that, too. It didn't look anything like a cat ear, at least, and that's what he thought of when he heard triangle ears. Really, though, it wasn't like he could just stare at them until he had them figured out. That was rude on way too many levels, not to mention especially cruel to someone that was obviously insecure with their looks. 

The second difference was almost more glaring. His eyes weren't their normal color at all. They were gold. Not light brown, _gold_. Honestly, Peter wanted to look into them a while longer, but he pulled his head back to his own food and left Wade in peace to eat. 

When he heard the sounds of Wade eating, he smiled softly. Another victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how it's going?


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

After dinner, Wade didn't stick around long, though he didn't pull his cloak back up so Peter considered it a win. He was getting a lot of those today. If getting home hinges on him breaking the curse, he really might be ahead of the curve here. 

He was in a great mood until he made it to his bedroom and he remembered. He had to fall in love to break the curse. That was going to be hard. It wasn't like he could fake it, not in a fairytale. Besides, that would be cruel to Wade. It was going to be cruel enough when he left and the real Beauty Peter came back and didn't know anything. 

So, Peter went to bed, feeling dejected and losing hope. His dreams reflected that. It was a night that started out like any other, just catching some petty criminals and making sure Deadpool didn't go around killing people. Peter heard something and he took off for it, touching down in the middle of a gang fight. He pulled guns away and webbed gang members to walls, doing his best to keep everyone under control until Deadpool got here. 

Then someone shot him, right in the thigh. He cursed and webbed it shut, then started rounding up bad guys. He wasn't being careful about punches anymore. Deadpool finally showed up and helped him. They got it all cleared away and ready for the police to roll up, then Peter about collapsed. Gunshots really hurt like hell. 

Deadpool carried him back to his apartment, where he sat him down on the couch. The biggest thought in Peter's head at the time was that it was a lot cleaner than he expected it to be. Sure, there were takeout and pizza boxes laying around, but only a few. The only thing really going on was clutter and most of it was weapons. 

"Do you want to take those off or should I rip it more?" Deadpool was sitting in front of him, his gloves off, with a few tools next to him to help him with fixing Peter up. 

Considering Peter went commando under the suit so he didn't ruin the lines, he was definitely not going to take them off. "Rip 'em." 

Deadpool grunted but did grab the scissors and cut some more space to work with. It hurt and he couldn't stop himself from wiggling, which was apparently very annoying to his nurse. When he glared at Peter, he just shrugged. "It hurts." 

He shook his head. "Baby boy, I'm going to give you something to look at that'll be so fucking complicated and ugly, you're not going to be able to concentrate on what I'm doing to your leg." 

"Uh, okay?" Peter raised his eyebrows, but he was still wearing his mask so he didn't know if he could see it. "What?" 

"Me." Before Peter could ask anymore, Wade reached up and pulled off his mask. It was the first time Peter had ever seen him without his mask so he wanted to look as much as he could. "Now all I ask is you don't toss your cookies on me or on your leg. Floor is fair game. I've probably got a towel around here to clean it up somewhere."

Peter wasn't in any danger of losing his cookies, not from looking at Wade. Listening to the highly detailed story he was delivering about what he'd do to the guy that shot him if Spidey would let him kill someone? Yeah, maybe. Focusing on the fact that he was digging through the meat of his thigh with a pair of pliers? For sure. 

Actually, looking at the scars on top of Wade's head was oddly soothing. A part of him wanted to reach up and see what they'd feel like under his fingers but he didn't. Wade wasn't exactly well known for showing his face easily, he probably had rules against touching without permission, too. Besides, Peter was a gentleman. 

Afterward, when Peter had almost bitten through a leather belt and there was a fist sized hole in the wall behind the couch, Peter was all patched up. All that remained was a bandaid over the neat, gentle stitches that Wade had put in. Wade did it, gently smoothing over the edges so they were all perfectly sealed against his skin. 

In real life, this had made Peter jump up and almost break a lamp on his way to the window, while he stuttered thanks and apologies behind him. He'd made it up to his friend a few nights later, by splitting some tacos with him. It was only a week before this whole misadventure had started. 

In the dream, though? In his dream, he leaned back against the couch, showing Wade just exactly what having his fingers on such sensitive skin had done to him while he removed his mask. 

"Get a little adrenaline happy there, Spideybabe?" Wade sat back in his chair and pointed in the general area of Peter's crotch. 

Peter just smiled. "Or I just liked you touching me. You know, once the pliers weren't involved anymore." This was another indication this was a dream because Peter had never been that smooth in his entire life. 

Wade smirked and then got closer to him, his face right in front of his. "I can touch more than that if you want." 

"I want." Peter answered easily. 

And then Wade's rough lips were pressed against his own, their bodies snug together and Wade's hands were - completely unsurprisingly - heading straight for his ass. Peter didn't mind, he just moaned as his fingers blindly searched for catches or zippers or freaking buttons for all he cared. Wade needed to be out of that suit. 

Finally, the man took pity on him. He put some space between them and did some magical things with his hands and the whole thing zipped open down to his waist. And that was as far as it went. Peter whined. Wade laughed. "Relax baby boy, we got plenty of time." 

Then, Wade was kissing him again, his agile fingers finding the seam between the pieces of his suit and sliding underneath, smirking when he found no underwear underneath. "Commando, Spidey?" Peter growled at him which just had Wade laughing before kissing him again. And then, his hand was gloriously wrapped around Peter's aching cock and he could forgive the man for taking so long. It felt so, so good. He was close within seconds, muttering between kisses, Wade's name and threats to keep going and whatever other nonsense fell out. 

That was how Peter woke up. Rock hard and leaking in a bed in a castle in a world that wasn't his own, his breathing heavy because apparently just the friction of the blanket against his cock was enough to make him close. He kicked the blanket off, hoping the cooler air would help pull the heat from his skin. But he couldn't get it out of his head, the sight of Wade's hand gripping him and stroking him, his lips against his neck, nipping and sucking. 

Thinking about it really wasn't going to help this situation go away. But Peter was just delirious enough, sleepy and horny in equal mixture, to just give up. He kept going with the fantasy as his own hand stroked him. When he came, he barely managed to keep from shouting Wade's name, remembering there was another Wade here that might take it as an invitation. 

As his breathing evened out and the mess on his stomach cooled, Peter sighed. That was definitely something that wasn't friendship. He couldn't even deny it and say it was hormones because he'd just come but when he pictured Wade over him again? His dick twitched with interest. So there was obviously some kind of interest. In Wade. Deadpool. That was… Yeah, that was bound to get messy. If he ever got back to his own world. He grabbed a towel and used it to wipe up the mess, then moved the pillow on top of his face so he could scream into it for a moment. 

How was this his life?


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a little filler-y. There's going to be a few of those chapters here, but hopefully not too many.

In the morning, things looked slightly less bleak. Yeah, he was still going to have to deal with his burgeoning attraction to Wade, but that wasn't until he got to his own world. Since there didn't seem to be a way for that to happen very quickly, he could just ignore it for now. That was almost freeing. 

Peter made his way down for breakfast, only hesitating a little when he saw Wade at the table. Sure, this wasn't _his_ Wade but it was _a_ Wade that was pretty dang close. It was awkward. Peter took a careful glance down at himself but his clothes didn't scream 'I jerked off to thoughts of a guy that could be your twin last night' so he took a seat and started serving up his plate. "So what's your agenda today, Wade? Got any locals to terrify?" 

He had just speared a piece of potato on his fork when he looked up at Wade. The man had a piece of bloody meat between two fingers, most of the way to his lips, but he was staring at him. Peter saw the moment he took a deep breath, seeming to let the air go through his nose and then over his tongue. 

And then he smirked. 

Peter looked down at his plate, his face suddenly on fire. He _knew_. Maybe he didn't know what had been on Peter's mind while he was doing it, but Wade knew _exactly_ what he'd gotten up to in his bed last night. Peter wanted to die. And if he knew Wade, there was a smart ass comment on the way. 

"Have fun last night?" 

And there it was. 

Instead of answering, he bit into his potatoes. There was no way he was going to dignify that with a response. He just kept eating his breakfast, watching the food slowly disappear from his plate so he didn't have to look at Wade. 

Wade, of course, thought it was hilarious. He chuckled every few seconds, sometimes outright laughing. The whole breakfast was punctuated by his amusement. 

Finally, it was over. Peter pushed his plate back and then watched as a kerchief tied around what was obviously an arm took his food. It was black with a plain white circle inside of it. "Domino?" 

"That's me, kid." The words were followed by a small chuckle. "Most of us are wearing these now. So keep an eye out." 

Peter smiled where he thought her face would be according to the kerchief. "Thank you. I will." She took his tray and went back toward the kitchen. And that's roughly when his morning got awkward all over again. 

Wade stood up from his empty plate. "Next time, a bath would probably save you some embarrassment. Though, it's not that odd for a man to find some comfort in his own hand." Wade laughed and Peter groaned, laying his head on his crossed arms.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little less filler-y? Maybe?

Peter obviously didn't spend the day with his head in his hands at the table. That would be completely ridiculous. Instead, he went back up to his room, resolutely didn't think of why he was taking a bath after breakfast, and then got dressed again. 

It was time to explore. 

First, he started on the bottom. Peter went outside, finding Phil in a really well appointed stable. Or at least he assumed it was well appointed. It smelled pretty clean and didn't look gross, but he'd grown up in Queens, he didn't know a thing about stables. Phil didn't look unhappy, and had hay and something like oats and water, so he was probably fine. Better than if Peter was taking care of him, anyway. 

Walking around the castle, he also found a greenhouse. At first, he thought it was locked, but then it opened up under his hand. He stepped out of the cold winter air into humid, warm air that smelled like growing things. Keeping with the theme, everywhere Peter looked, it was roses. Red ones, yellow, purple, orange. There were striped ones and pale ones with just the barest hint of color. He walked up and down the aisles, absorbed in how beautiful they were and wishing he had his camera. It seemed like he went through roses forever before he came to the 'practical' plants. There was a real garden in here. While that was nice, it wasn't as interesting and he made his way back out. 

The rest of the grounds were rather dull. There was what looked like a maze, but he definitely wasn't going to go out in that with just a cloak. He didn't really feel like dying in the middle of it. At some point, he still wanted to go home to New York. So, he headed inside. 

He might as well continue on up. He explored the basements, finding the dungeons and a rather extensive kitchen that he only stayed in for a few minutes. The servants were invisible but they sure could glare, anyway. 

The other side of the basement opened up into a different kind of secret. And it wasn't even locked! Peter just opened a door and there it was. A room, completely covered in weapons. Various kinds of swords. And guns, though they weren't the same sleek, high tech ones his Wade used. For the second it took him to remember who he was dealing with, he was taken aback. Then, he remembered that this was Wade. It stood to reason that his love of weapons would transcend universes. 

As interesting as the room was, there wasn't actually all that much to see. Peter shut the door and then headed up the stairs. For the most part, the floor was boring. There were a lot of rooms he'd assume were offices, judging by the desks and dust. With a prince under a curse and all effective government shut down for God knows how long, offices wouldn't really need to be kept up, would they? 

The only thing of interest was a large room filled to the brim with musical instruments. They were dusty, as well, but a glance around the room had him convinced that it had everything. He wondered what it would sound like, if it would sound as good as the symphony he'd always enjoyed going to with uncle Ben. With a small sigh, he shut the door again and then headed back up the stairs. 

He opened every door that wasn't locked in his own wing. There were mostly just bedrooms, each of them with their own color scheme and not looking even nearly so well kept as the one he was in. Well, he supposed the servants cleaned it up for him. That would make sense. 

Peter came out of his wing and looked across the castle at the West Wing. He was definitely going there, but there was another wing to look at first. He turned right into the North Wing. It was about half as long as the East, and presumably West, wings were, with art covering all of the walls. Most of them were dusty or ripped, but the bits that Peter could see, he thought they were beautiful once. 

When he made it to the end of the corridor, it was wide wooden doors. He pushed one and found it heavy, but it moved. Inside was a library, but it put every library he'd ever seen to shame. There were shelves everywhere, every one of them full to bursting with books. It felt like the sheer number of them shouldn't exist just because there were so many of them. 

After a few moments, his eyes started taking in other details. The comfortable chairs and desks, the ladders leading up to higher shelves. It was wonderful, really. Peter felt like he could get lost here, just discovering what secrets this library held. He did stay, for quite a while. But then, he made his way out. There was one more place he needed to see. 

The worst part about the servants being invisible was that he had no freaking clue if they were anywhere around. He glanced around, knowing it wasn't going to help but unable to stop himself, and then purposely made his way to the West Wing. 

Sure, this was part of the whole story. But he didn't really need to fight the story, did he? It wasn't like whatever was down here was actually going to scare him or make him leave. Peter would just be able to prove to Wade that he was trustworthy and unlikely to bolt and boom, they'd be on their way to breaking the curse. Maybe without that inconvenient detail of Peter falling in love, first.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy
> 
> I have nothing to say

Peter wasn't a coward. He followed villains into scary places all the time. He'd helped the Avengers. Hell, he'd TA'd for a biology class in college. He was in no way a coward. 

Walking down that hallway, he started to wonder about it, though. 

It wasn't that it was _scary_ , per se, but it was definitely of a different feel than the rest of the castle so far. Aside from a few, obviously well maintained areas, the general feeling of the castle was disuse and emptiness. This wing, though, was almost sinister. There was a deep, chest binding anger and sadness to it that made Peter want to turn around and not come back. But even as it made him feel like he should be fleeing, the feeling just made him want to push further. Wade was at the end of this. Was this what he was feeling? 

To the right, all the doors were opened into rooms that had been torn apart. To the left, it was the same. Except for one door, at the end. Peter forced himself to walk to it. When he arrived, he saw that it didn't close all the way. Something had warped and twisted the frame so that the door didn't press tight to it. 

He heard a roar. Peter swallowed and slowly pushed open the door, not wanting to make a noise and announce his presence yet. Looking in, he saw Wade, but this wasn't the laughing, joking Wade he'd been faced with already. 

Wade's back was to the door and there was no cloak covering him. His feet were bare until the bottom of his faded black pants. They hung loose on him, the red shirt not tucked in at all. His posture was one of agony, though. He screamed again and tore into the wall in front of him, crossing lines that must have been there already. 

All of that was a lot to take in, but then Peter noticed that black hair was spread across the back of Wade's head. What was that about? 

Peter must have made some sound because Wade turned to him. And for the first time in his life, Peter was afraid of Wade. He didn't have a human mouth anymore. It looked like the wide, snarling maw of a wolf, complete with hair and teeth. The absolute rage in his eyes made Peter's heart start slamming in his chest. "Get out!" The word was growled at him and he couldn't resist it. He turned and bolted down the hall and then the stairs. 

They were in a story. Peter knew that. But there was a limit to how much even he could take. A freaking werewolf? No. No. Definitely and definitively, no. He was not doing that. This was going to have to be the problem of the Peter that actually belonged here, not his. He was going back to his village and he didn't even care if he had to fend Harry off. 

Peter didn't know what he was doing, but he ran to the stables and threw stuff on Phil until he looked like he expected him to. That was going to have to do because he doubted someone would come from the castle to help him run away. He clambered into the horse and then directed him toward the gate. 

Only minutes later, Peter was racing through the woods. He hoped that Phil knew the way back to the village because otherwise they were going to die here in these woods. All the thought in his head was dedicated to putting as much space between himself and the werewolf behind him, so much so that he almost didn't notice the wolves start howling. 

Almost. 

By the time he noticed them, they'd cornered him and Phil against a thick tree. Peter looked at them, snarling and inching closer, and felt his hope die. "Shit."


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should all know what's coming.

"I'm surrounded by wolves, without my powers, in a weird fairy tale world. What do I do now?" Peter looked around and then slid off the horse. He wasn't anywhere close to a good horseman and if there was a chance that Phil could get away from all this, he wanted him to have it. Then, he reached for a branch on the ground, wrapping cold fingers around it. He was definitely not going down without a fight, powers or not. 

That was all the time he had to prepare. With a snarl, a wolf jumped at him. Peter got the branch around to swing at it, catching it just across the shoulder. It was enough to change its momentum, enough that Peter wasn't buried under claws and teeth. Unfortunately, it was also enough to crack the branch he was holding. He wouldn't be able to use it much longer. Was there another branch handy? 

Another snarl ripped through the air. Peter involuntarily looked for the source of it to his left, but he didn't see anything at first. Then, the moon came out from behind some clouds and there stood Wade, feral and violent in the snow. It was a little terrifying, but Peter didn't have time to do more than think it before Wade was running toward him. 

He fell on the wolves. The wolves, finding themselves no longer in the advantage, turned to the new threat. For a moment, Peter just watched. Then, he laid in with his branch, hitting wolves until his branch broke and then finding a new one. He was helping as much as he could. 

Finally, the wolves ran off. Peter stood, holding his third broken branch, breathing heavily. He was about to thank Wade when the man in question dropped to his knees. That was when Peter noticed that the snow around him was growing more red. It was almost impossible to see what damage had been done with the color and looseness of the clothes he wore, but Peter could assume it was a fair bit with how much blood was dropping into the snow. 

"Okay, Peter. We can do this. We just have to get Wade back to the castle and patch him up. Easy peasy." Peter knew it was ridiculous, but it helped to give himself a bit of a pep talk. He pulled Phil forward and then started tugging at Wade to get him in the saddle. When he growled, Peter smacked his shoulder. "I'm trying to help you. Just get in the saddle." It seemed to work because Wade struggled to his feet and then into the saddle. Even Peter could tell that it wasn't a good position he was sitting in, but he figured they were just going to be walking so it would be fine. 

Getting them back to the castle was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences Peter had ever gone through. He jumped every time he thought the wolves were back and he couldn't see anything with how dark everything was when the moon was behind the clouds. It didn't help that he was completely unsure of where to go, which meant that every 'helpful' direction from Wade was more acerbic and growly than the last. But they made it. Finally, they were walking into the castle. 

Peter made educated guesses as to how to take care of the wounds, asking Domino for the things he'd need, and then demanded that Wade strip and lay himself before the fire. Wade, of course, didn't listen. He glared at him, his hands on his hips and bleeding all over the floor. "Why should you care about my injuries? They'll heal just fine." 

"Because you got them saving me." Peter put his own hands on his hips and glared right back. "And I'm sure they hurt. It won't cost you anything to let me help you. Just strip and lay down." 

Wade glared for another long moment, then turned his back. His shirt came off on short jerky movements, and then his pants followed. Peter kept his eyes firmly fixed on his shoulders when he laid down, not wanting to be looking at anything else. Now was not the time to be remembering the other day. 

Peter used a clean cloth and a bowl of water to clean the wounds. The ones on his shoulder were not so bad, long instead of deep. He made sure they were clean and then bandaged them up. After that, though, it got.. a little more awkward. There was a bite on Wade's hip, right at the top of his thigh. Peter cleaned it, trying very hard to keep his eyes on the ragged lines in Wade's scarred skin and not let his eyes wander to his cock that was less than three inches from his hand. 

It was a lot harder than it should have been. 

Finally, Peter got him bandaged up. Wade had been watching him, gold eyes peeking out of half closed lids. When he was done, he covered Wade with a blanket. "Rest now. I'll look at them again tomorrow." 

"Thank you." The rough voice was almost a surprise when it came. 

Peter smiled at him and nodded. "It's no trouble." He stood up and stretched. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you in the morning, Wade." Wade didn't respond, but Peter didn't mind. He just made his way to his bed.


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just started writing chapter 21 of this story. There's still a lot I want to get done with it, so there's still no estimated time of completion.
> 
> Here's the second chapter of the day!

Something changed after that. Wade wasn't as distant anymore, actually making conversation with him at meals. The cloak was abandoned, leaving him wearing loose clothes on his large frame. He also didn't disappear immediately after. Peter didn't really notice until he followed him into the library. 

Peter had no idea where he was going to find what he was looking for, so he picked a direction at random. The library had to be organized, right? He picked a book at random, a blue leather one with a gold title. _The History of the Wilson Family._ It would probably give him some insight into Wade, right? He took the book and found a nice comfy chair to sprawl on. 

He lasted just under an hour before his sighing got to be too much for Wade. "If you hate history so much, why did you start in that section?" 

"Because I didn't think it would be this boring. How is your family so boring?" Peter grumbled as he dropped the book to the ground. 

Wade laughed and then stood up from his desk, stretching. Peter admired the long lines of his frame before pulling his eyes back to the book in front of him. This was starting to get complicated. "Well, what do you want to read? I can probably tell you where anything is in here." 

Peter blinked at him for a moment and then grabbed the book he'd dropped. He could at least put it away. "Anything on science?" Wade grumbled a little, but he directed him to a different part of the library and up a ladder. There, Peter found books on astronomy and biology, as well as a few other subjects. He grabbed the biology book and then went back to his comfy chair, where he lost himself for a few hours. 

Over dinner that night, Peter was the one talking. He was telling Wade all about the facts he'd read in the book, careful not to expand on anything since it seemed that a hundred years or so had passed in scientific knowledge between this world and his own. But it was fascinating to see where they were in the sciences and to know what was coming. 

Trips to the library seemed to become the norm. Most of the time, they'd each end up in their own places, quietly sharing space. Sometimes, they'd come together and talk. Peter found that Wade was actually surprisingly knowledgeable about many different subjects. It made him wonder if that was something his Wade had in common, or if it was because this Wade was a prince. It was an interesting thought and he wanted to go back to his world and find out. 

One day, after weeks in the castle, Peter was restless. He settled into his chair with a book that should have grabbed his attention, but he couldn't concentrate long enough to read a whole sentence at a time. He wasn't used to this. In his own world, he'd be balancing a job at Stark Industries, being Spiderman, and attempting to keep in contact with his friends and family. It had been weeks of doing nothing now. He was going insane. 

After the fifth time he shifted position and sighed, Wade reached over and grabbed his hip, forcing him to stay still. "Are you really that restless?" When Peter just whined at him, he stood up and grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him up as well. "Let's go." 

Peter let himself be pulled up and out of the library. "Let's go where? Where are you taking me?" 

"To blow off some steam." Wade directed him toward his room. It took more willpower than it should have for Peter to pull his mind away from the very, very inappropriate path it immediately went down. He _really_ needed to get laid. "Dress warm." 

The orders didn't register for a second, and then curiosity got the better of him. He went into his room and looked in the wardrobe, finding the warmest clothes he could. Over it all, he bundled a beautiful blue cloak, though he had a bit of trouble figuring out how to move around in it. Cloaks weren't exactly the norm for him. 

He was busy trying to use the pin to secure the thing under his chin when there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was someone that could help him, Peter sighed. "Come in." 

Wade walked in and seemed to instantly see the problem he was having. He rolled his eyes and moved up to take over. "It's like you've never done this before. Do you just not leave the house when it's cold out or do you have someone help you every day?" 

Instead of answering, Peter just pushed him away when he was finished. His fingers moved up to the pin, feeling its neatness, before he put his hands on his hips. "Now why did I have to dress warmly? What are we doing?" 

Wade grinned and then walked out the door, gesturing over his shoulder for Peter to follow. Like the curious man he was, he followed after him. Wade led them down the stairs and then out the doors, into the open area between the maze and the stairs leading toward the door. Grinning, Wade pointed toward the left. "Go build your fort and your ammunition. We shall have a battle." 

Peter stared for a moment, then a smile spread across his mouth. "You're on. I'm going to take you _down_." 

He was glad for the gloves he'd found in the wardrobe a few moments later. He was building himself a wall to hide behind and his hands would be blocks of ice if he didn't have the warm fur and leather gloves. Once it was built up to a sufficient height, he started making himself snowballs. 

In the end, Peter was so busy amassing as many snowballs as he could, that he didn't realize the battle was starting. It wasn't until a snowball came and hit him directly in the back of the head that he realized it. Then, he turned slowly, glaring at Wade who just laughed at him before lobbing another snowball. 

Peter dodged behind his fort and then the battle was on. Friendly insults and laughter filled the space as snowballs flew between them. It was fun, more fun than Peter had had in a long time. He didn't really want it to end. 

Snowballs stopped coming from Wade's side and Peter took his chance. He snuck up close to the maze, hoping the bright green of the bushes would disguise the blue of his cloak as he got closer. Finally, he was within a few feet of Wade's fort. He bent, scooping up a huge armful of snow. Then, he jumped over the top of the wall, dumping the whole load of snow on Wade's head and shoulders. He yelled, a rasping growling quality to it, and Peter laughed so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. 

"Oh, you little brat." Wade finally recovered and he tackled Peter, crushing his carefully constructed fort under the smaller man. Peter tried to stop him, tried to fight back, but he was laughing so hard that his body was weak and useless. When he got his face coated in snow, he sputtered but kept laughing. Wade started laughing too, leaving them both sputtering and holding each other as they caught their breath. 

After a moment, they looked at each other. Peter could practically feel the magic in the air, pushing for there to be some romantic event. It was almost a physical weight on him. 

All in all, it was the worst time for Peter to feel homesick for _his_ Wade. 

Peter smiled and then wiggled, working himself out from under Wade. "I'm getting cold. Can we go inside?" Wade looked at him oddly, but then he put a smile on and got up, following Peter inside the castle again.


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit of filler. But I promise, things are going to pick up soon.

Dinner that night was quieter than it had been lately. Peter tried to make conversation to capture that easiness that had been between them before, but Wade didn't really work with him. He felt worse about that because he felt like Wade had read it as a rejection when that wasn't at all what Peter had meant. 

Or maybe it was. 

It was so complicated. Wade was great. He was smart and funny and Peter would be happy to have him as a friend. It was just that he didn't want more because when he looked into those gold eyes, he missed the white eyes of the Deadpool mask. This Wade didn't make cracks about his ass or flirt with him while he put down a bad guy. He didn't clean up his wounds or talk him down when the memories of everything got to be too much. It just wasn't the same and Peter didn't realize how attached he was until it was gone. 

Honestly, it was pathetic. He was moping while he literally lived in a castle in a fairy tale. He just.. Wasn't happy. 

Him and Wade bounced back a bit over the next few weeks. They talked at dinner and spent time together in the library again. But at night, Peter was thinking about his Wade, wondering why he was so stupid that he didn't realize what he could have while he could have it. Now it was out of his reach. 

And honestly, he was losing hope that it would ever be in his reach again. He'd been in this world for almost three months. What were the chances that he was going to be rescued now? Was this his life now? He'd never go back to the life he had, to the people he knew? Sure, it seemed that most of them were here, but they weren't the same. Nobody was quite how he expected them to be. 

At night, Peter let himself feel hopeless. He tried to think of solutions and how to get himself out of this situation, but there wasn't anything he could do. He was stuck. Would breaking the spell even help? Or would it just leave him in this world, with a prince he didn't love, and people he didn't connect to? That was a depressing thought.

A wave of melancholy hit him one night, as he stood in the library and looked out the window. The moon was out and gilding the snow silver, making the dark masses of the maze and the walls even more prominent. It was hard not to feel homesick for even the most mundane of things. He missed electricity and showers, his phone and Hot Pockets. He missed late night dinners on rooftops with Wade, and Sunday dinners with Aunt May. He missed the way it smelled right after it rained, like warm wet pavement and a clean start. Covering his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and tried to hold back the flood of it all. He could stay strong. He could do this. Rescue would come. Some day.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Peter didn't know how long he stayed in the library, a hand over his eyes and sheer force of will holding his heart together. Eventually, though, a hand rested on his shoulder. Without thinking about it, Peter let himself take the comfort he was offered. He turned into Wade's chest, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. No tears left his eyes, but he felt drained and sad afterward anyway. 

When Wade gently turned his head and pressed their lips together, Peter let it happen. He was never getting out of here, was he? This was as close to being with his Wade as he was ever going to get. He might as well be selfish and take it while he could. 

The kiss got deeper and their hands started to roam. Wade tugged at Peter's shirt and Peter lifted his arms so he could tug it off completely. Then, he returned the favor, running his hands over the firm and pitted flesh of Wade's chest once it was bare. 

When a mouth settled over his throat, nipping and sucking at it, Peter moaned and fell back into the window seat, pulling Wade down with him. The other man let out a groan and dragged blunt nails over Peter's hips, making him buck up into him. He wanted this, but he refused to think of the complicated reasons why. 

Before long, Peter's hands were shoving his own pants down, kicking them off to who cared where. Then, he was reaching for Wade's. He didn't care how far down they went, as long as his cock was free. When it was, Peter wrapped a hand around it, causing Wade to moan and thrust into his hand. 

Wade, though, had a better idea. He pushed Peter flat on his back and then settled between his thighs. Then, he spit into his hand and took both their cocks in his hand. Peter moaned and wrapped his leg around his hips, keeping him there as he joined his hand with Wade's. 

It wasn't soft or slow. It wasn't romantic and passionate. No, it was a scramble for orgasm, a distraction from pain and suffering. They moaned and exchanged sloppy kisses, rocking into their joined hands until finally Peter was shouting and then shaking as his orgasm tore through him. Wade kept stroking them, coming just before it got to be too much for him. 

They didn't speak afterward, Wade just grabbed his shirt and used it to clean the mess on Peter's stomach. Then, he collapsed to the side of him, pulling him into his chest. Peter didn't want to be alone right now, so he didn't fight it. He just closed his eyes and willed exhaustion to take him.


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're gaining some speed.

When Peter woke in the morning, he blinked up at the ceiling. The dawn hadn't brought any new optimism to him. He still felt hopeless and lost. After a few moments, he forced himself to slide out of Wade's arms, thankfully avoiding waking the other man. Then, he pulled his clothes on, quietly, and made his way to his bedroom. 

He stripped off his clothing and then went to soak in the tub, but it didn't help his depression. Finally, he gave up, dragging himself out of the room and into his bedroom. The towel was wrapped around his waist as he looked in the wardrobe, trying to make himself care about what the hell he was wearing. 

"Damn, baby boy, can we lose the towel? This view is totally going in the spank bank, but you could make it better by just letting go." 

Peter whipped around so fast he wouldn't be surprised if he got a neck injury. There, standing just inside the closed door, was a red and black dream. "Wade?" Was he hallucinating? This couldn't be real. There was no way. 

Wade executed an actually very graceful pirouette and then bent slightly forward, the sides of his hands pressed to his cheeks and holding up two fingers each, in classic kawaii pose. "That's me, Wade Winston Wilson, Deadpool to my enemies and DP to you, if ya nasty." 

He damn near dropped the towel. Wade was really here. His Wade. Deadpool. He was here, in this castle. Peter was about to be rescued. He felt so much relief through his system that he almost started crying. Thankfully, he didn't think any of that showed up on his face. He was too busy staring at his savior at first, and then he had questions. "How did you find me? Why did it take so long? We can go back, right? Please don't tell me you're stuck with me here. I can't do this anymore." 

Wade started looking around the room, poking at things and just generally keeping his hands busy. "Well, finding you was not easy. That Puddles dude really picked an abstract universe to stick you in and I had to go through a lot of them to find which one it was. And the guy that got sucked into your body was no fucking help, let me tell you." He poked at a candlestick until it fell off the table, like a cat. "Kid couldn't even use your powers. Freaked the hell out when his hand stuck to the wall and he couldn't get it off. But that was after Iron Dick stuck him in a containment room because we figured out it wasn't you." 

Peter reached into the wardrobe, grabbing pants at random. He didn't care what the hell he was wearing because he was about to go home! "How did you know it wasn't me?" 

"Easy peasy, lemon sleazy." Wade waved his hand in the air a few times. "Dude freaked out when he saw a car. Like at first we thought you'd just hit your head, which was a little terrifying because that big beautiful brain of yours is a national treasure and shit. But dude kept freaking out at technology and then trying to figure out what kind of clockwork made it all work. That was when Stark-bait, oo ha ha, stuck him into the room. Unfortunately, he wasn't far enough in the story to narrow it down on where to look for you." He looked at Peter, putting his hand on his hip and shaking his opposite finger at him like a disappointed mother. "Beauty and the Beast, babe? Really?" 

"That's what I said!" Peter threw his hands up in agreement. Then, a thought occurred to him. "So… how much do you know about the universe?" 

Uncharacteristic silence met the question, long enough that Peter looked at his friend in concern. Wade was running a finger over his collarbone, back and forth, while he stared at Peter. Not understanding, he glanced toward the mirror. There were light bruises around his neck, but they weren't the type that anyone could mistake for ones gotten by violence. Peter flushed, but turned back to Wade. He needed to know the answer. 

Finally, Wade seemed to snap out of it. He started digging through his various pockets. "You're Beauty, as if you could be anyone else, Spidey. And I'm the beast, which, really, not very imaginative. At least this universes version of me gets a chance at redemption and getting his handsome face back. If he can make Beauty fall in love with him." Another stare followed that statement. 

Peter swallowed. "Well, that's going to be up to the Peter that actually belongs here." Wade's only response to that was a tuneless humming that eventually gave way to Tale as Old as Time. "Do I have time to write a letter or two before we go?" When Wade just waved in agreement, Peter scrambled for pen and paper. 

He really meant to write a longer letter, but he was writing with a quill. Who the hells idea was it to ever write with a giant feather? It was hard and he wasn't sure how legible his writing really was after he finished. He had two notes, one he addressed to Wade. That one was short. It simply read 'I can't explain, but move slowly and I'm sure I'll fall in love with you.' He didn't want to leave Wade wondering what the hell happened when he's going to be faced with a Peter that had no idea any of the relationship building that had happened between them. 

The letter he left for the other Peter was longer. 

_Peter,_

_I tried not to mess up your life, but you're in a castle with a beast and invisible servants. The beast's name is Wade and he's actually very sweet. He eats raw meat and I've been sitting next to him at meals so he'll expect you to do the same. He's covered in scars but he's got beautiful eyes. Give him a chance, yeah?_

_Peter_

_PS - those bruises on your neck aren't injuries. They were gotten.. Amorously._

Peter stuck the letter for Wade just outside the door, hoping that one of the servants would see it and deliver it for him. The other, he held in his hand, since he assumed they were going to do the opposite of what had already happened and switch back into their own bodies. 

When he was ready, he looked at Wade and smiled. "Are we ready to go?" 

"I'm always ready to go for you, Spidey babe." He clapped his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Take a deep breath and try not to toss your cookies when you get back." He reached into one of his pockets and Peter heard a small click, and then everything went black.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm digging the comments I've gotten so far. I'm also willing to accept any suggestions anyone has? I'm not necessarily going to do them all but I have a few things I want to accomplish and no clear idea on how to get there. So if you want to help, feel free?

When Peter opened his eyes, he almost cried at how relieved he was to see the awful fluorescent lights of a containment room in Stark tower. He sat up and then jumped off the bed, instantly trying to climb up the walls. It worked and he let himself climb onto the ceiling and then drop to the ground while he laughed. He was just about to go for the door when it opened up and Tony was in the doorway. 

"Peter?"

"It's me! The right me!" He grinned and stepped forward, unable to stop himself from throwing his arms around Tony. "I'm back!" 

Tony awkwardly patted his back. "That's great, kid. If you could let me go, though?" 

Peter laughed and let him go. He ran his hands through his hair and then looked down at himself. He was wearing sleeping pants and a plain grey tee shirt. "Where's my suit?" That's what he'd been wearing when he had gotten sucked into fairytale land. "And how long have I been gone?" It had been about three months in that universe, but had time passed the same here? 

Gesturing for him to follow, Tony led him out of the containment room. "Well, it's been about six months since you got switched. The other Peter was pretty much in containment the entire time." He led him to the lab and made a gesture. In response, a part of the wall opened up, revealing the Spiderman suit. Except, it wasn't the one he'd been wearing when he was last here. This one was a darker red and more of a navy blue instead of the bright versions he had before. "The suit has been… Well, it was a very basic suit. I've upgraded it." 

Peter blinked. It hadn't actually been that basic. Tony had upgraded it a few times. "What did you do to it?" 

"Added some flame retardant capabilities, some nanotechnology, a bit of this, a bit of that." Tony waved his hand like it wasn't a big deal. Peter looked at the suit and raised his eyebrow. He was going to have a lot of fun figuring it out. 

He looked at his mentor and grinned. "Am I allowed to take it now? And am I allowed to leave? I really, really need to do something modern." He looked around for a second, something occurring to him. "By the way, where's Wade?" 

Tony didn't look completely happy to hear Peter talking about Wade, but he never was. It was one of the few things they didn't see eye to eye on. Tony didn't think that Wade was worth the time of day, Peter thought of him as his best friend. They just couldn't agree. "He came back from getting you and then went home. But yes, as long as you feel fine, I think you're good to go and you can take the suit with you." 

It was easy to leave after that. He changed into some clothes that were left at the tower for emergencies, packed the suit in his bag, and then took off. As he was walking out of the tower and into the street, he pulled his phone out. He didn't have any missed calls from Aunt May, so he assumed someone had let her in on the secret. He'd go see her tomorrow. For right now, he scrolled through his text threads until he found the one with Wade. His contact name was under the letters d and p with no less than five eggplant emojis following it. Wade had chosen the name himself. _Want to patrol and get some food? I desperately need to do something not fairytale related._

Wade's response was a series of emojis, the mind blown one, a cry-laughing face, an eggplant, rainwater, and a skyscraper. Thankfully, Peter was more than capable of figuring out what he meant. After a quick stop at home, he was in his new suit and coming out of his window in his apartment. When he made it to the rooftop he generally met Wade on, he found him with a plethora of snack bags - Funyuns, three flavors of Doritos, Pringles, and honey mustard pretzel pieces - and two cans of soda. "Yo, DP. Did you rob a gas station?" 

"Spidey, baby, no, of course not." He gestured to the snacks and then pushed them toward Peter when he sat down. "I just know what it's like to be stuck somewhere weird for a while. So, I'm giving you some of the best of the modern world. You eat this, then we'll patrol, and then we'll singlehandedly keep Ubereats in business when we order something from every restaurant in town after."

Peter put his hand to his chest and pretended to wipe a tear away from his eye. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." Wade just winked through the mask while Peter ripped open a bag at random. For a while, he just stuffed his face. He didn't even like Doritos but he happily ate all three bags. When he finished one of the cans of soda and only had the pretzels left, he held it out to Wade to share a bit. He took a handful and pulled up his own mask to start chewing at them. "So six months, huh? I wonder how much crime happened." 

"Eh, not much." Wade stole a sip of Peter's remaining soda and then belched. "Daredevil came and helped patrol, so did Hawk Guy and Popsicle numero dos." 

Peter blinked. Matt and Clint and Bucky had patrolled for him? That was.. That was really great. He'd have to thank them somehow. After a minute, he looked at Wade again. "You didn't patrol?" He'd half expected it, actually. 

Wade snorted. "Yeah, can't really do that when I'm digging through the multiverse trying to find your delectable ass." 

And that was another thought that sent something through him, something he didn't want to think about too closely. Peter was doing a really good job of not thinking about his realizations from the other universe and he wanted to keep that streak up. "You really searched for me for six months?" 

"Every day, Petey-Pie." Wade stood up, checking the straps of his weapons. "Let's get this show on the road, okay? I've got a season of Queer Eye to catch up on." With that, he jumped head first off the building. 

Rolling his eyes, Peter shot a web at him before he could fall to the ground twelve stories below. It was a pain, but he gently lowered him to the ground and then grunted when Wade cut the web from him. Then, Peter webbed off himself. 

Three hours - and four muggings, one attempted assault, and two carjackings - later, Peter and Wade were making their way into Wade's apartment. Peter tried not to stare at the couch and he was pretty sure he managed it. 

He didn't. He couldn't even lie to himself. Wade gave him an odd look because he stopped moving and stared for so long. Thankfully, he started rambling about the merits of pineapple on pizza and where crab Rangoon were actually invented while he scrolled through the Ubereats app instead of asking questions. 

Peter shook his head and made his way into Wade's bedroom. He pressed the spider on his chest and the suit released enough for him to pull it off easily. Then, he grabbed a pair of Wade's pajama pants and one of his threadbare black tee shirts. It was only after he was dressed again that he thought about that. Was it weird that he was so used to wearing Wade's clothes? That definitely seemed more than friendly. "No. I'm not thinking about this right now. I'm not." Peter angrily whispered it to himself and then shook his head. 

When he made it to the living room, Wade was already stripped. He was standing in the living room, peeling the suit from his legs, in nothing but Hello Kitty boxers, his mask, and a pair of socks. This wasn't a new sight. There was nothing unexpected about it. There was no reason for Peter to stare at his shoulders or to feel like an entire fire had started on his face. To cover it, he went to the fridge and started digging for beers. The cool air inside the appliance helped. 

"God damn shit balls, why are the ankles in this suit like Chinese finger traps?" Wade was complaining in the living room and the familiar sound of it made Peter smile. "I swear to Bea Arthur it'd be easier to just chop my damn feet off and regrow them. Fucking finally!" The sound of Kevlar and leather being tossed across the room followed. So he'd gotten out of the suit. As Peter turned back around, he heard Wade stomping into his bedroom and yanking drawers open to pull out comfortable clothes. 

When Wade came back, he was still wearing the mask, but now he was in grey sweatpants and a white tank top. Peter didn't quite understand his friend, who was willing to show the scarred mess of skin on his body but was so uncomfortable with revealing his face. Usually, Peter didn't think anything of it and didn't try to pry. Today, though…

"You know, the other Wade didn't have a mask." Wade stilled and looked at him, but the mask was curiously still. He couldn't tell what Wade was thinking under it. "I sat next to him at meals, every one. And he ate raw meat." 

"So you're saying he wasn't gross enough to make you up chuck." 

Peter flushed because he'd done more than just manage to keep his food down around him. For a second, he remembered feeling those scarred hands on his body and he couldn't tell if he was remembering the times that this Wade had helped him with his injuries or if he was remembering the other Wade and his orgasm. "Yeah. So, you know, if you want to take off the mask, I'm not going to freak out. I've seen it before." He didn't want to bring up the night Wade had dug a bullet out of his thigh because then he'd think about his dream and that was just too much. 

Nothing happened for a long time, Wade just pulled up Netflix and started talking about how he couldn't pick a favorite of the fab five and the best things about each of them. Peter didn't push him. 

When the food arrived, Peter saw that Wade had really meant a lot of food. There was pizza, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Italian, Mexican, and burgers. He groaned in happiness when he saw it all laid out on the table. He quickly went to the kitchen to grab forks and chopsticks and napkins. When he returned, Wade was shoving almost a whole piece of pizza in his mouth. 

His mask was discarded on the floor. 

Peter smiled and then handed him a napkin. Then, he sat down next to him and started on the food. They didn't need plates, because they just ate straight out of the containers. Peter would eat his fill of the pad Thai and then he'd pass it over to Wade, who'd finish it up while Peter started on the wet burrito. By the time the food was all gone, they'd watched four episodes of the new season of Queer Eye and Peter wasn't sure he'd be able to move off the couch if he tried. "God that was so good. You have the best ideas." 

Wade grunted and reached his hand under his shirt to scratch his stomach. "I don't understand how you can put away that much food. Do you have a hollow leg? Or are you secretly a gym rat?" 

"Increased metabolism. Also, swinging around on webs for half the night is actually a really intense workout." Peter laid back with his eyes closed, his hand rubbing over his stomach to ease the discomfort. 

Wade just grunted. Peter kept his eyes closed, letting the voice of Tan talking about French tucks lull him.


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to tell you.

Peter woke up to the smell of bacon and an off pitch rendering of You Spin Me 'Round. It should have been the second thing that told him he was at Wade's still, but it was really the first. He lived alone, so no one could cook for him. And if he had stayed at Aunt May's, it would have been turkey bacon which he'd never complain about her cooking for him but wasn't nearly as good as the pork kind. He sat up and stretched, then got up from the couch to go to the bathroom, unburying himself from the heavy comforter that had been placed on him. 

When he was finished, he made his way to the kitchen for coffee. He'd missed coffee so much. After he poured himself a cup - and put the required four scoops of sugar in - he took a sip and moaned. "God that's good." 

"You gonna orgasm there? Should I get you a new pair of pants?" Wade stopped singing just to point the spatula at him. 

Peter flushed and kicked him in the shin. "Jesus, Wade. No." 

Wade grinned at him and went back to the bacon. Looking at the stove, Peter saw that there was also pancakes, blueberry and plain. His mouth watered. There was no way he should be hungry after everything he ate last night, but he was. 

Wade kept up a steady stream of conversation, talking about the process of making syrup and the different types that were offered at IHOP, and then veering into breakfast foods in the rest of the world. Peter hummed and grunted when he needed to, but mostly concentrated on drinking his coffee and stuffing his face. 

After he'd helped clean up, because May had raised him right and because he didn't trust Wade to do it before it got moldy, he went into the bedroom to pull on his suit again. "Alright, DP, I gotta get. I owe Aunt May at least a dozen roses for how worried she's probably been." 

"She's definitely been worried. Almost decapitated me when I told her you were stuck in another universe." 

".. You were the one that told her?" Peter didn't have his mask on yet. He looked at Wade and was confused to see the other man avoid his eyes. 

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Gold-titanium Alloy Man didn't want me to, but I thought she deserved to know why you weren't going to be at Sunday dinner for the foreseeable future." 

Peter smiled and then reached forward, putting his hand on Wade's shoulder and squeezing. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." Wade just waved him off, so Peter pulled his mask on and then made his way out the door and up the stairs, looking for the roof access. It was broad daylight, so leaving by the window wasn't really an option. 

The time of day also made it a little difficult to get into his own place, but he did manage it in the end. Then, he took a shower and got himself dressed, calling Aunt May when he was done. She, of course, wanted him over for lunch. He packed his bag and then made his way over there. 

He stayed there until late into the evening, then made his way back home. When he curled up in his own bed, he should have been able to sleep no problem. Instead, though, he found himself staring at his ceiling, thinking. 

As much as he wanted to just forget about it, the other universe was bothering him. How were they doing there? Was Peter letting Wade charm him? He wanted there to be a happy ending for them. Wade deserved someone that would love him. 

His Wade deserved the same. 

Peter pulled the pillow over his head and groaned. He really needed to not be thinking about this. It was complicated and he deserved a few days where he could just relax and enjoy his real life. Unfortunately, his brain didn't agree. 

In the morning, he was painfully hard when he got in the shower. He leaned his head into his forearm against the wall of the shower, pumping himself with his other hand and promising himself that he wouldn't dwell on the fact that he was imagining warm, scarred hands instead of his own.


	23. Chapter 22

He fell into his normal routine over the next few weeks. Four days a week were spent in the labs, working on his projects. Thankfully, since Tony was fully aware of what had happened to him for the last six months, he still had a job. Sunday night dinners with May resumed. 

Peter also spent as much time as he could with patrolling, most often with Wade to help. He left twice on jobs, a few days each. He promised that he wasn't killing while he was gone, but he wasn't saying what the jobs were. Peter chose to trust him anyway. 

The worst part about all the time he was spending with Wade was that it wasn't making anything easier. It wasn't just dreams that were bothering him now. Peter almost couldn't get off unless he was fantasizing about Wade. And that was just so incredibly complicated. He avoided going to Wade's place just so he could keep his mask on most of the time and avoid the chance of Wade being able to read it all on his face. 

It wasn't the fact that Wade was a man that was so complicated. Peter had long ago made peace with his bisexuality. He wasn't exactly out, but that was more because no one really asked and he'd never found an easy way to work it into conversation. There was no shame involved in it. 

Really, the problem was that it was Deadpool. Mercenary with a kill count higher than Peter ever wanted to contemplate. Sure, he said it had been a year since he'd killed anyone, well, more like a year and a half now, but his history was still bloody. And Peter was still very uncomfortable with the way that Wade had told him that information. He didn't remember the exact phrasing anymore, but he knew he'd been left with the distinct impression that Wade was still killing on a regular basis. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to care because the only one Wade was killing was himself. And Peter wasn't stupid. Wade's apartment was a two bedroom. No matter what Wade said, he knew that second bedroom wasn't for weapons, not when the rest of the apartment held so many, and definitely not when he could smell blood in it so often. 

No, Peter was convinced that the second bedroom was some kind of suicide room. He wouldn't investigate, not unless he had to, but it made him uncomfortable. He hated that Wade thought suicide was a perfectly reasonable reaction to things. He hated that he wasn't sure what his attitude behind it was. Did he just think it was some kind of fun because he couldn't stay dead? Or did he do it because he felt like he was sick? Wade wouldn't talk about it, though, so Peter was left to guess. 

Mentally unstable, checkered past, irreverent, lewd. Wade was a whole host of unsavory qualities. All of that should mean Peter barely tolerated him. But Wade was arguably his best friend. And it was because there was so much more to him than all of that. He was mentally unstable, sure, but it made him uncannily good at balancing Peter. He'd talked him out of panic attacks and guilt spirals on more than one occasion. He was also funny and shockingly gentle when he didn't think he had to maintain his reputation. He was caring and thoughtful, especially once you realized that half of what he said was a crutch to release the pressure of everything going on in his head. 

And Peter… Peter was a coward. He'd throw himself into a gang fight, he'd let Wade dig bullets out of his body with no painkillers. But take a leap of faith and talk to Wade about his feelings? He couldn't do it. Wade flirted with him all the time, sure, but did he actually mean it? If Peter paid attention, he saw that all the flirty comments that he directed his way, were almost mirrored at others. Wade had hit on every one of the Avengers, and continued to sing their praises, at least physically, whenever the subject came up. Was that really any different than what he did for Peter? 

It was all just so complicated and he didn't know how to straighten it all out. So mostly, he just ignored it. Right now, his chosen distraction was trying to figure out how much of this universe had been mirrored into the other one. Specifically, the problem that was Steve, Bucky, and Tony. 

And it was a problem, even if not everyone realized it. 

There was no way he would have noticed it before his little trip, but now it seemed glaringly obvious. Steve and Bucky were a couple. Everyone knew that, even if the right wing media pretended it didn’t. What seemed so obvious to Peter now was that Tony was definitely interested in the two of them. 

It wasn't like Peter was allowed to just hang out in the tower when he was working, so he lost a rather large chunk of his day. But when he didn't have anything to do and he had a few hours to kill? He could go up there. And he was rapidly losing count of how many times he'd walked in on flirting between at least two of the three. It gave him hope that it wasn't just Tony that flirted. Actually, it wasn't Tony at all. Tony was most often seeming flustered as Steve or Bucky, or on a couple occasions both, flirted gently with him. Well, Steve flirted gently. Bucky was more direct. 

And yet, somehow, Tony didn't realize they were serious. For being a genius, he really was dumb sometimes. 

The biggest problem was that he didn't actually know what to do about it. He couldn't talk to Tony about it, it was way too awkward. Especially because they'd already established that they didn't do relationship talks when Peter had tried to offer comfort after Pepper had ended things with Tony. 

Talking to Steve about it was also out of the question. Steve was intimidating. They talked and sparred together sometimes, but he wasn't nearly as comfortable around him as he probably should be. But it was Captain America! Peter had slept in Captain America pajamas until he was twelve! 

Then one day, a golden opportunity came up. He was sparring with Bucky and actually holding his own. When they stopped for the day, they were both just laid out on the ground just relaxing before they hit the showers. Peter decided to take a chance. "You know something that was really weird about that other universe?" Bucky just grunted, listening. "I met that version of you and Steve and Tony. They lived in a tower, which I thought was fitting, but it was different. It was only like four stories tall and Steve was some kind of witch. Tony was a clockwork inventor and he'd made you a really cool arm with the help of Steve's magic." He stopped for a second, wondering how to say what he wanted. "But, like I said, there was only four floors. One was a living room, one was a room where Steve did his magic, and one was a room for Tony and his inventions. I assume there was a basement for a kitchen because they cooked." 

"Okay?" Bucky obviously didn't see where Peter was going with this, but Peter didn't blame him. It was definitely a backwards way of going about it. 

Peter smiled a little. He was getting to his point. "I never saw the top floor, but I assume it was a bedroom because you need to sleep and there wasn't a bed anywhere else. But, like, I think they shared it? In a 'we're in a relationship and probably just have one bed' kind of way. I saw them kissing a few times. All three of them."

"..Weird." Bucky said. 

"I know. I imagine if that Tony was anything like this one, they probably had to be pretty direct with him." 

Bucky was quiet for a second. "You think?" 

Peter nodded, though he didn't look at Bucky. "Yeah. I mean, Tony is kind of an idiot for being such a genius. He doesn't even realize you and Steve are actually flirting with him. But I bet if you came right out and said something, he'd get it." When he glanced over, Bucky was looking at the ceiling, a thoughtful look on his face. Hopefully he'd do something with all those thoughts. Peter picked himself up off the ground. "I'm going to go shower. Supposed to patrol tonight. Seeya later." 

"Yeah, later." He still looked thoughtful as Peter walked out of the training room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm shipping stuckony  
> Fight me


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry, took a bit of a break. I'm still trying to figure out the chapter I'm trying to write.

Peter met Wade for patrol on their usual roof. It was a normal night. They bantered as they fought petty criminals, Wade being flirtatious and Peter feeling flushed as he tried to ignore it. He didn't know what else to do with it. Flirting had never been his strong suit. Gwen had been the one to start their relationship and MJ hadn't even given him time to realize she was flirting before she moved on. The few times he'd ever had even casual encounters with people was when everyone had been straightforward and blunt about their interest. 

That wasn't what he needed to be thinking about. It was the very worst time to be distracted, considering there were about six different goons with knives surrounding them. Deadpool had about four on him and he was doing pretty good. Peter, though, was a distracted nutcase and couldn't seem to handle the two left for him. He webbed one to the wall, feeling confident now that he only had one to worry about, when his Spidey senses went off. 

He was just a hair too slow to stop the full impact of the blow, though he got out of a blade buried in his back. Instead, the knife slid from his shoulder to the top of his thigh, a curving line from back to side. It felt like fire across his skin, but he didn't stop moving. He turned and kicked the guy in the head, then webbed him to the wall. For a moment, he just watched and stared, then he remembered that there were still four more guys. But when he turned around, Deadpool was holstering his guns and the guys were all on the ground. Peter didn't bother to check if they were alive because he knew they were. He only carried one clip of real bullets in his utility belt 'for emergencies', using rubber bullets the rest of the time. The goons might have broken bones or concussions, but they would live. 

That was more than he could say for himself, though. With the adrenaline starting to leave his body, the cut across his back burned and stung. He could feel the air on it, not even close to cool enough to calm the fire of the injury, but definitely cool enough to let him know that his suit had been sliced open and quite a lot of his skin was bared. And it was in too awkward of a place for him to web it closed. For a moment, he hung his head and clenched his fists, fighting off the pain. 

"Uh, Spidey?" Wade's voice was close. "Looks like you need a bit of help there. Lucky for you, you've got the sexiest nurse ever on speed dial. What do you say we get back to my place and I patch you up?" 

Peter had been avoiding Wade's place, but what was he supposed to do? If he couldn't web it shut, he definitely couldn't sew it up himself. He sighed and then nodded. "Yeah. Let's go. Do you, uh, have anything to like tie that up? I really don't feel like flashing the city." 

"The city would be so lucky." Wade reached into his utility belt, picking through pockets until he came up with a small roll of duct tape. He started ripping off pieces, pinching together pieces of suit to tape them together. Peter could tell that he tried to be careful, but there was still a good chunk of skin stuck under the tape. That was going to hurt like a bitch when it came off. 

Peter took off for Wade's place, webbing his way there while Wade jumped roofs and climbed fire escapes. Obviously, Peter made it there first, opening up the window and sliding inside. His suit was soaked with blood and half of his body felt like it had been dipped in acid. So he took a break, just sat on the ground just inside the window and slumped over his knees, taking deep breaths as he tried to make his head stop spinning. 

He woke to hands on his shoulders. Peter moaned, feeling lightheaded and awful. "Alright, baby boy. Not the way I wanted to make you moan, but I guess I'll take what I can get. Think you can work with me and get all that off?" Peter tried, he really did. He tugged his mask off and then pressed the spider on his chest, though the suit didn't really need to loosen much with how much damage had been done. What kind of knife was that? Hadn't Tony put nanobots in his suit or something? No, not this one. This was an older suit. Damn. 

Peter must have lost track of things for a minute, because he didn't zone back into things until Wade was pulling tape off his back. He shouted as it pulled at the wound, ripping off the sorry excuse for a scab it had tried to form. There were times he envied Wade his accelerated healing, and this was one of them. Healing faster than a regular human was useless when it was still too slow to really help. 

Wade made soothing sounds but he didn't stop pulling at him until all the tape was gone. Thankfully, he gave him a little bit of a break after that, before he started tugging at the suit to get it off. Peter was completely exhausted by the time he was naked and laid out on his stomach on Wade's floor. There was a glass of whiskey by his head and Peter forced himself up on his elbows to drain it. There weren't any painkillers here and even if there were, he'd have to take quite a few before they worked. Alcohol worked faster. 

It was quiet as Wade started cleaning his wounds. It didn't last long. Peter hissed and groaned as Wade dragged alcohol soaked bandages across the wound. In the morning, when he was all doctored up, he'd be thankful that it was actual rubbing alcohol and not whiskey that had cleaned him, but for right now, he was in too much pain. 

When Wade started stitching him up, Peter started sobbing, but he quickly silenced himself. He turned his head from Wade and felt tears silently roll down his cheeks. After a while, he stopped twitching, too exhausted to do anything at all except cry. 

Finally, _finally_ , Wade finished. He smoothed a bandage over it all, carefully taping it down. "There you go. You'll be good as new in a few days." Peter didn't say anything, just reached a hand up to wipe at his sore eyes. "Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat?" 

Peter should be worried. After all, it was rarely a good thing when Wade got quiet and he'd barely spoken since he'd woken Peter up. But he wasn't worried at all. He just closed his eyes and let himself drift off. 

He woke up once when a blanket was thrown over him, and then again when he was lifted up and placed on the bed. Wade tucked him in and then went to leave. Peter reached out his hand and grabbed his wrist before he got too far. "Stay. Please." 

He could sense hesitation in Wade, but it passed in a few heartbeats. Then, he squeezed his wrist back. "Let me get out of my suit." There was no complaining this time. Peter left his eyes shut and listened as he heard weapons drop onto the dresser and then the suit hit the floor. There was a little more shuffling, the sound of drawers and then the sound of fabric over rough skin. Then, the bed dipped next to him. Wade laid stiffly beside him. Peter rolled his aching body into him, resting his head on his shoulder and throwing his arm around his waist. Then, he fell asleep, the sound of Wade's breathing in his ear.


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little filler-y again, but I hope you like it. I finally got past that chapter that's been giving me trouble, so I'm on to writing the good stuff. If I can get it figured out quickly enough, there might be another update coming for the day. I like to keep five chapters ahead, so we'll see.
> 
> Enjoy!

Peter woke up with his back pressed against a warm wall of muscle. He smiled softly, then shifted a little closer. An arm snaked around his waist and held him still, and he sighed happily, already half asleep again. Wade was kind enough to let him sleep for a little while longer, wrapped around him under the comfortable weight of the blanket. 

When he woke up the next time, he couldn't go back to sleep. His bladder was demanding to be emptied. It was urgent so he threw back the blanket and sat up, but that was about as far as he got before his side let him know he was not to be moving so quickly. He gasped at the sharp pain and then jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. That just made him moan in pain again. "You alright?" 

"Have to pee." Peter managed to get out past clenched teeth. 

A moment of silence followed that, and then Wade's voice was hesitant when it came. "Do you want me to carry you there?" 

Peter shook his head frantically. "Nope. I got it. Just gotta go slow." He'd probably die of embarrassment if Wade helped him pee. Thankfully, he didn't push. Peter was able to slowly ease himself off the bed and then down the hall to the bathroom, blushing the whole time because he was naked. That was where his energy ran out, so he sat to use the toilet and then stayed there for a few moments. When he had the energy to stand again, he did. There was a pair of pajama pants sitting on the ground outside the door, and he struggled into them and then made his way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a pained grunt. Thank God it was his day off. 

"Pancakes or omelets?" Wade was standing in the kitchen, looking in the fridge.

For a moment, Peter was distracted by the fact that he was just wearing a pair of pajama pants. His shoulders were broad and the muscles of his back were on full display, a very distracting show. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Both?" 

"Man after my own heart." Wade pulled out ingredients and got to business making the food. "You probably need a lot of calories if you're going to heal that damage any time soon. Don't you worry about that, I'll make sure you're taken care of, Petey Pie." 

Peter grunted and then had to finally force his gaze away from Wade. He wanted his phone but he didn't really feel like getting up to dig through his suit to find it. So he just laid back on the couch with his eyes closed. For a while, he could lose himself in the sound of Wade cooking and chattering about different types of eggs and how to cook them, before veering off into various alien forms of eggs from movies. He had finished cooking and was bringing loaded plate after loaded plate to the coffee table when a horrible thought came to Peter. "I don't have any clothes." 

"Uh, what?" Wade placed the last platter - full of at least two pounds of bacon - and looked at him. 

"Clothes." Peter pointed toward his suit that still sat discarded on the floor near the window. "I came here wearing my suit and it's shredded. I can't just leave in my birthday suit." 

For a moment, Wade had a far off look in his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Since Peter knew he was imagining him running through the city naked, he tossed a piece of bacon at him and hit him square in the nose. "Hey." He bent to retrieve it, sticking it in his mouth. "That's bacon abuse. Totally not cool. A poor little piggy gave up its life so you could eat this bacon." 

"Focus, Wade." Peter glared. 

Wade just shrugged. "Borrow some of mine. I know you can't fit in my jeans or whatever, but a shirt and a pair of pajama pants work just fine. You'll be able to make it home." 

Peter didn't know how he felt about wearing Wade's clothes out of his house, but he didn't really have a lot of choice in the matter. Instead, he shook his head and started eating. Wade had been right, he needed the calories. He ate six pancakes, a four egg omelet, and half the bacon, and was still hungry. Wade passed over the last half of his own omelet and gave him another handful of bacon. Peter sheepishly accepted and then ate it all. 

He should get going home. There was no reason to stay here. But when Wade flipped on the TV and settled on an episode of Judge Judy, Peter settled more comfortably on the couch and then closed his eyes, drifting off easily. 

When he woke again, he was pressed into Wade's side, with his arm around him. The other man had his head dropped to the back of the couch and small snores were leaving his mouth. Peter smiled and snuggled in again, giving himself permission to nap some more. He was healing, after all, he needed to conserve his energy. 

The rest of the day passed that way. They napped, curled into each other on the couch, and they ate. Wade checked his stitches and changed his bandages. Thankfully, he was finally healing because it didn't hurt nearly as much as it had before. 

Peter probably should have gone home, but he didn't. He stayed with Wade again, and neither of them talked about the fact that they shared the bed again.


	26. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys I might give you a second update today.

The next morning, Peter was the first to wake. He got himself out of bed, sending a dopey smile toward Wade's still sleeping form. When he realized what he was doing, he shook his head and retreated to the bathroom. He used the toothbrush Wade had found for him and then went into the kitchen. 

Peter could do science experiments. He had a degree in biophysics. He regularly helped Tony Stark in his lab. 

He was also a very subpar cook. 

Feeling determined, he looked at Wade's perfectly stocked fridge and tried to figure out what would be easy enough for him to make. Omelets. Those were just eggs with some vegetables thrown in. He could do that. With a deep breath, he started pulling ingredients out. 

He chopped onions and peppers carefully, wiping his leaking eyes when he was done. He found some thick slices of ham, so he cut those up too. Sautéing them in butter, he set them aside before getting another pan for sausage. Then, he poured the eggs in the pan. Maybe he could do this. 

His confidence was probably his undoing. He hadn't put more butter in before he put the eggs in. Peter couldn't get the eggs to come off the pan until he started scraping with the spatula. "Damn it, damn it, damn it." Giving up, he dropped the veggies in and then put a generous handful of shredded cheese on top. Omelets had become loaded scrambled eggs. Fine, whatever. Still edible. 

And then there was smoke filling the air. "Ah!" He'd forgotten about the sausage. Trying to get them to move around the pan just peeled the layer that was burnt to the pan, making more juices spread across the bottom of the pan and sizzle. Panicking, he turned the heat down and tried to figure out how to fix it. 

"Damn, are you really that bad at cooking?" Wade's voice made Peter turn around to glare at him. He held his hands up in surrender. "I mean, thanks for making breakfast, but please don't burn down my apartment. I haven't even christened it yet." 

Peter blushed and turned back to his sausage, shoving them around the pan for a few seconds before he turned off the heat on the eggs. He didn't want to burn those, too. 

Eventually, Peter plated it all up. The sausage was partially burnt, but it was fully cooked so he considered it a success. Wade stopped cracking jokes when he started eating, which Peter considered another success. 

After cleaning up, grumbling the whole time because it was hard to get the sausage and eggs off the pans, Peter finally decided it was time to leave. Wade looked over his wounds again, pronouncing that he still couldn't shower but that they'd be ready to come out in a few days. Peter wasn't happy to not be able to shower still, but he knew he couldn't ignore it. 

Dressed in another set of Wade's clothes, he packed his suit in a bag and then made his way home. He cleaned himself up with a wet washcloth as best he could, then pulled on his own clothes. It was a little alarming that he felt sad at that. 

After a few hours spent on his couch feeling out of sorts, he dragged himself out of the house and to Aunt May's for dinner. She saw him favoring his side, so she of course had to take a look at it. Thankfully, the whole Spiderman thing had come out years ago and he didn't have to come up with any excuses. After thoroughly inspecting the stitches, she announced them perfect and then bandaged him back up. 

That night, when he crawled in bed, he was wearing Wade's pajamas again. He tried to tell himself it was because they were more comfortable than his own, but even he couldn't lie to himself. He wore them because they smelled like Wade's laundry detergent and a little like his apartment. And he needed something to battle the loneliness of sleeping in a bed by himself again.


	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's time to introduce someone new. Someone very interesting.
> 
> Shout out to my friend for the great name!

Peter returned to work on Monday, but he didn't return to patrolling until Thursday after he met Wade to take out his stitches. For a few weeks, everything was fine. They didn't get seriously injured in any fights - except for when Wade jumped off a building and broke both his ankles. Peter called him names as he lay on the ground, moaning dramatically while they healed. They also didn't share a bed again. 

But neither of them mentioned that Peter hadn't returned the pajamas. He still wore them at night, taking comfort in them even though they no longer smelled anything like Wade. 

It was Saturday night and they had shared some Chinese on a roof when Peter heard the sound of a mugging. Peter swung off to go intercept, letting Wade come his own way. Except, Peter took care of it all on his own. He webbed up the mugger and left him for the police, letting the victim leave. 

"Deadpool?" Peter came out of the alley and looked around, but he didn't see his friend. Finally, he started swinging, taking the most likely path that Wade would have taken from where they are. 

"Spidey! Hey, Spidey! Down here!" 

Peter followed the voice until he landed in an alley behind a restaurant, uncomfortably close to a dumpster. At least it was October and not very hot or it would stink to high heaven. "What's up? Why'd you fall behind?" He didn't look injured or anything. 

"I found something." He gestured into the dumpster. 

Peter was confused, but he dutifully looked into the dumpster. At first, he didn't see anything but the remains of broken garbage bags. Then, something rustled and he heard a growl. The light caught on an eye. Once he had a hint, it was easier to pick it up. There was a cat in that dumpster, angry and probably scared. It was definitely a stray and probably sick, judging by its matted fur and the fact that it only had one eye. "That's a cat." 

"I always knew you were a genius. I myself thought it might be a pigeon, but I can see now that I was wrong." Peter shot a web at Wade, making him lose his balance and fall on his butt. "That's just not fair." He dug out a dagger and started cutting the web off. When he was finished, he stood up. "Help me get it out." 

Peter could tell that it couldn't get out itself. The sides of the dumpster were too straight and flat for it to offer any purchase and the cat was obviously too weak to jump. "Why do you need my help?" 

"Because, I've never done this before. Rescuing cats out of dumpsters is like heroing 101 and I wanted to be sure I was doing it right." Wade jumped into the dumpster. 

Peter rolled his eyes under his mask. "Rescuing cats out of _trees_ , DP, trees." He huffed an exaggerated sigh and then clapped his hands. "You're doing great. I'm so proud of you." His voice was deadpan, but he might as well have been silent. Wade wasn't paying any attention to him. He was too busy talking soothingly to the cat, trying to get close without being attacked. Surprisingly, the cat let itself be calmed down a bit and didn't do more than dig in with its claws when Wade picked it up. 

Getting back out of the dumpster turned out to be a little complicated. In the end, Wade had to hand the cat to Peter which it did _not_ like. Peter ended up with bloody scratches as it's sharp little claws worked into his suit. "Ow, dang it." 

As soon as Wade was out of the dumpster, Peter passed him back the cat. Wade instantly started cooing at it and Peter watched as the cat calmed down and started purring. "What are you going to do with it?" 

"Obviously, he has chosen me as his savior. I will make it my life's duty to watch over him and provide him with all the chicken I can." Wade made kissy noises at it and then gagged when it brushed its face over his chin. "God, he stinks." 

"You did just find him in a dumpster." Peter laughed. "How do you know it's a boy, anyway?" He'd never had a cat before, but he didn't think he'd seen anything that obviously denoted its sex. Wade laid the cat back in his arms and then gestured between its legs. "Well, what do you know?" There was an obvious bulge. 

Somehow, the rest of patrol was put off. Instead, the two of them went back to Wade's place, after a quick stop in a store to secure a disposable litter box. As soon as he'd taken off his mask, he wished to put it back on. The cat really did stink. Bad. "What are we going to do with it?" Peter didn't know what hell he'd opened himself up to with the question, because it turned out that the first thing they were going to do was clean him. 

Between the two of them, they probably lost a liter of blood, but the cat had been bathed in the sink with the Dawn dish soap Wade had. Peter had Googled to make sure it was okay. Once all the disgusting dirt and dumpster juice had been washed off him, it was obvious that he was long haired. And black, it hadn't just been dirt making him so dark. The hellcat didn't stop trying to scratch them until Wade gave it a plate of cut up chicken, resolving to go to the pet store in the morning for real cat food. 

Wade reprised his role as Peter's nurse, sticking Minion bandaids on his cat scratches and offering to kiss them better. Peter pushed his face away and pretended he wasn't blushing. "Are you really going to keep him?" He needed to change the subject and the cat was as good a topic as any. 

"Yep." He popped the p on the end and looked at the cat with a wide smile on his face. "I think having a pet could really liven the place up. Of course, I'm going to have to figure out everything he needs, but we both know I have more than enough money to do it." 

Wade turned on the TV and the both of them zoned into the random show it had on. After the cat had finished eating the chicken and then licking himself within an inch of his life, he jumped up onto the couch, settling into the space between them like he had already decided he was king of the castle. Peter reached out tentatively to pet him, and the contrary creature rolled onto its back a bit, exposing his stomach for scratches. Even Peter knew that could be a trap, but the hair looked so soft that he couldn't resist. He got a whole two minutes of scratching before claws bit into his arm. Worth it.


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just cute, guys

Both of them woke up on the couch. Apparently they'd fallen asleep there. Wade complained about a crick in his neck while Peter tried to work the kinks out of his back with some stretches. The cat complained for food until Wade opened a can of tuna for him. 

After a quick breakfast, Peter made his way home to shower and put on real clothes. Then, he met Wade at the pet store. Wade was wearing jeans and a heavy hoodie under his jacket, the hood pulled tight over his face so it was hard to see under it. Peter wished he didn't care about showing his face, but he wasn't going to judge Wade's issues. 

They grabbed a cart and then started through the aisles. Once they had the essentials, they squabbled over what kind of collar to get for him. Peter wanted the plain green one but Wade kept trying to put the gold one with jewels on it in the cart. "This one matches his eye, _Peter_ , it's perfect." 

"Fine. Make him gaudy! I don't care." Peter threw his hands up and went to go buy coins from the register to work the tag machine. Wade paid for everything while Peter painstakingly typed Wade's address into a fish shaped tag. When he joined him, Wade took over, adding on a name. "Mr Bigglesworth? Really?" 

Wade bumped him with his hip and hit accept so they could watch the machine etch in the information. "It's a great name. You're just jealous you didn't think of it first." Peter rolled his eyes and watched the robot arm. 

They took their spoils back to Wade's apartment. Then, they spent the next few hours setting everything up. The longest project was setting up the frankly massive cat tree, which was made ten times harder because Wade didn't want to read the directions, instead insisting that he could do it 'instinctively'. At least a half hour was lost with just the two of them arguing over it. 

When it was all set up, Peter looked around the apartment and laughed. "You went zero to crazy cat lady in a day." 

Wade snorted and pointed a finger at him, but the hoodie was off so Peter could clearly see the amusement on his face. He loved it. "I've always been a crazy cat lady. Now I just have a cat." Peter laughed. 

They played with the cat for a while, giving him catnip and seeing what kinds of toys he liked. When it came time to leave, Peter didn't want to. He liked seeing how sweet Wade was to the cat and he wanted to watch it for a while more. But it was time for Sunday dinner with Aunt May and she would be very upset if he canceled on her to watch Mr Bigglesworth and Wade. So he, said his goodbyes and then made his way over to his aunt's place.


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, I feel like I'm not giving anything away with this information, but I just wrote a chapter that is pretty much just explicit smut and I have plans to either expand it to make it even longer, or to write a second, completely smut chapter. Haven't decided yet. But the important part is that I will be raising the rating on this and I'll label the smut, since what I've had before wasn't very explicit, so you can skip if you want.
> 
> Alright, enjoy this new chapter.

Somehow, Mr Bigglesworth wasn't just Wade's cat. Peter would come over after patrol just to pet him for a few minutes. When Wade went on a job, Peter stayed at his place to take care of him. He got daily texts with updates. They took him to the vet together, getting him dewormed and up to date on his shots. A month of this passed before he realized he was coparenting a cat with Deadpool. What was his life? 

But honestly, it was one of the most heartwarming and romantically frustrating things he'd ever seen in his life. Wade was so incredibly sweet to Mr Bigglesworth? Every time he walked in the door, the cat was waiting for him and Wade would pick him up and just cuddle him for a minute, while the cat was purring like crazy. He was picky about the food he bought for him, researching and talking to a vet before he chose one, and he carefully measured out his food for his two meals a day. Mr Bigglesworth slept on Wade's bed and Peter knew that because there was a new pillow on it and it was covered in long black hair. When they sat and watched TV or played games, the cat was always right between them, or if they were sitting too close together, sprawled across both their laps and biting their elbows when they got too enthusiastic with their controllers. 

Mr Bigglesworth didn't hate Peter, at least. He let him get cuddles and greeted him when he came in, as long as he'd already greeted Wade. It was just extremely obvious that he preferred Wade, and honestly, he understood. Why the hell would anyone, even a one eyed cat new to living with a family, choose mousy Peter Parker when Wade was a choice? He was so magnetic and sweet and amazing. 

Peter never thought he'd be jealous of a cat, but here he was, doing his best not to give Mr Bigglesworth murder eyes when Wade picked him up and kissed his face and ran his hands all over him. What was his life? 

But, God, he wanted that to be him. 

He wanted Wade pressing those chapped and scarred lips against his forehead, wanted his hands rubbing all over his skin. 

Wow, okay, now he definitely needed to make a stop in the bathroom. 

Peter grabbed some clothes from Wade's room and then hid in the bathroom. First, he stared at himself in the mirror, staring into his own eyes and thinking a lecture at himself. _Yeah, you have a boner for the dude. You have an emotional boner, too. That does not mean you're allowed to pop a real one when he's in the same fucking room. Get it together. You're supposed to be a hero, not a fucking skeev._ After another seconds intense glaring at himself, he pulled off his suit and slid into Wade's pajamas. If he happened to grab a shirt off the floor because it smelled more like Wade, that was his secret to keep. 

After a couple more minutes, he was decent and could step out. Wade had already taken the time to change into some fuzzy pajama pants and a loose white tank top with the Captain America logo on the front. Peter snorted and rolled his eyes before sprawling across the couch, not bothering to talk to Wade because he was talking a mile a minute about how much he would fuck a chimichanga because they tasted so good while he messed around on his phone, presumably ordering them food. He had long since gotten used to the crude way Wade talked, especially when he was hungry. 

Sometimes, his Spidey senses weren't that great. There were certain people that he was so comfortable with, they never set it off. Aunt May, Tony, Wade. Those three could sneak up on him and he wouldn't know they were coming. 

That was a pain when a normally graceful Wade tripped over his new cat and ended up on top of him, their chins clacking together so hard that Peter bit his lip. For a moment, the two of them just looked at each other, only separated by a couple inches. Peter had a wild moment where he really, really contemplated just closing the distance and kissing the hell out of Wade. 

Instead, Wade mumbled something unintelligible and then slid off of him onto the floor before he jumped up again. "Still getting used to how to walk around a cat. They're like little assassins, trying to take you out by going around your ankles. It's a good thing this place doesn't have stairs or I'd be tripping down them and ending up with a broken neck at the bottom. Which, yeah, wouldn't keep me down, I'm a fucking jack in the box, but still, it would be a pain."

Peter sat up as Wade rambled, leaving room on the couch for him. Wade seemed to take a lot longer than usual to sit down, but when he did, they were able to turn on the TV and watch something. Peter didn't really watch it, though. He pet Mr Bigglesworth with one hand and just thought. Why wasn't he brave enough to just take a risk? He could just say something. Like, 'Hey, when you make jokes about eating my ass, I really wish they weren't jokes. I don't think you look like raw hamburger and I'd really like your mouth on me, wherever you want to put it.' But, no. He was a damn coward and kept his mouth shut. 

Wade didn't ask him why he groaned and put his head back, and Peter was thankful.


	30. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw - explicit suicide description. Please read whole note of that bothers you. 
> 
> I don't usually use trigger warnings, but I'm also usually pretty vague about things of this nature. That didn't feel right with this story because I want to bring it home that Wade's state of mind isn't all innuendo and jokes. He's a fucked up guy. That being said, the explicit parts are between the asterisks. I'll put a note at the end with the spark notes version of what happens between them, but the rest of it should be acceptable.
> 
> As for the rest of what I wanted to say, you may have noticed that there is a chapter count now, we're going to be at 35 when this ends, as I now know where it's ending. I literally just have to finish the epilogue and we're done. I'd say this means it'll be the longest fic I've ever written, but honestly, I passed that like four chapters ago. I'll post some ideas I have for another fic and maybe ask for votes next chapter?

Peter didn't know why, but he knew that something was wrong after that. When they met up for patrols, Wade was quieter than usual, and Peter caught him staring at him, his mask blank, more often. It put a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach but Wade always brushed off anything he said about it. 

A week of this went by before Wade missed patrol. He waited an hour for him, calling every fifteen minutes, but he never picked up and he never showed. Finally, feeling worry so strong he wasn't sure if it was just his anxiety or if it was his Spidey senses, he took off. 

***

Just as he started pushing the window up, he heard a gunshot. His heart slamming in his chest, he shoved the window up and out of the way, climbing in and only barely remembering to close it behind him. Then, he was making his way further inside. 

Just like he thought, he made his way to the second bedroom. The door was cracked open and Peter pushed it slowly, knowing what he'd find and not wanting to see it. The whole room was straight out of a nightmare. There was blood everywhere, old stains and fresh splatter. Oddly enough, there were also odd spots, some where something had obviously been scraped off, and he didn't want to think about what it was that was stuck to it. There were other patches where Wade filled in holes, sanding the patches smooth but not bothering to paint over them. The room was completely empty except for the handful of tarps on the ground. And, obviously, Wade. He was slumped against the wall, wearing fuzzy socks, a slouching pair of pajama pants, and a once-white tee shirt. His chest was covered in blood, some old and coagulating and some fresh as it dripped from his ruined head. Some people assumed that Peter must have a weak stomach, but he didn't. He'd seen too many disgusting things in his time heroing to be phased by much. 

What he felt when he looked at Wade, blood dripping out of his mouth and brain matter splattered across the wall around the bullet embedded in it, wasn't disgust. It was complete sorrow. Judging by the bullets he saw and the amount of grey and red sludge, this wasn't the first time he'd blown his brains out tonight. 

He pulled the gun from his unresisting fingers, easily clicking it open and pulling the magazine from it before tossing each piece into separate corners of the room. Yeah, he didn't use guns, but he'd been working with Deadpool for two years. He would have had to be an idiot not to pick some things up. 

***

Peter pulled off his mask and his gloves, tossing them out into the hall so they didn't get covered in blood. Then, he ran his fingers over Wade's face, across his cheekbones and down his jaw. He pressed a kiss into his still intact forehead. He stayed like that, just touching his skin and watching bone knit back together before skin covered it slowly. 

Finally, after God knew how long, Wade opened his eyes. Peter had been so intent on watching him heal that he hadn't even noticed him start breathing again. For a second, his eyes were unfocused and glassy. Then, he blinked and seemed to realize what he was looking at. He jerked away from the fingers on his face and rolled to the side, putting distance between them. 

Peter stayed where he was, watching his best friend. "Wade, what's going on?" Wade shook his head and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and burying his face in them. A soft meow had both of them turning to look at the door. 

"Get him out of here. I don't want him to see me like this." Wade buried his head back in his arms. Peter clenched his jaw and went to go pick Mr Bigglesworth up, depositing him in the hall and then shutting the door. He wanted to yell at Wade, ask him why he was okay with Peter seeing and not the cat, but two things stopped him. One, it was pretty much guaranteed that Wade didn't want _him_ seeing it, either, he just didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. The second was that he still wanted to hold him and make him feel better any way he could. 

"Wade, I -" 

"Don't." Peter shut his mouth, swallowing. He didn't like the tone of voice his friend was using. It sounded so flat and empty, two things that should never have anything to do with Wade's voice. Uncomfortable silence surrounded them, only broken by the occasional meow from the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> Peter finds Wade in his suicide room. He takes apart his gun so he can't kill himself again and then waits for him to heal.  
> ***


	31. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I messed up. I just finished writing the epilogue which is chapter 35, but I forgot about the prologue which actually means we'll end on chapter 36.
> 
> Idk about the voting thing. I couldn't sleep last night so I think I came up with the next fic I'm going to write. So keep an eye on me?

He wanted to fix this. Peter had no idea how to do that, but he wanted to so bad. At this point, he didn't even care what off the wall idea it was, if it would make Wade feel better and fix whatever was broken between them, he'd do it. All he could do was stare at his hands on his knees because it felt wrong to keep his eyes on Wade when he was obviously feeling so broken. 

"I just don't get it." Wade's voice had him lifting his head to look at him again, but his face was still pressed into his arms. Peter bit his lip, but didn't say anything, just stayed quiet and let him talk. "Well, that's a fucking lie. I do. I totally get it. I mean, have you met me? I'm totally obnoxious. Awful. Insert another hundred similar words here." Peter frowned, hating these conversations. He hated seeing Wade so down on himself. "But like, you don't seem to mind? Anymore, at least. You did at first. But now you willingly hang out with me. You come over and you hang out and you listen to me and you don't make me feel like a freak, so I was like, hey, maybe he doesn't actually hate me."

"I don't -" 

"No." Wade lifted his head to level him with a look that had him wanting to cry. "You're going to let me finish, and then you're going to leave so I can put my gun back together and finish my clip. Then, we're never going to speak of this again. And with any luck, I'll have scrambled my fucking brains so much that I don't remember it." 

Peter clenched his jaw, fighting to hold back tears. He didn't want that to happen. Finish the talk, yes. Let Wade go back to killing himself over and over again? No. He'd never be okay with that. 

Wade stared at him until he nodded. Hopefully, he understood it was only an agreement to stay quiet. Then, he rested his face back in his arms and sighed. "So obviously, the thing that was keeping us apart was that I look like a fucking geriatric ballsack. I mean, who the hell in their right mind would want anything to do with that? Especially someone as beautiful as you." The words to tell him that he didn't look like a ballsack, geriatric or not, were on his tongue, but he kept quiet. He'd been warned and if he didn't want to end up tossed out, he'd keep quiet. "But you slept with that other version of me. And dude had some creepy ass ears. At least mine are still human." Now he was looking up at Peter, impaling him on how hurt and frustrated his face looked. "So I guess, yeah, I really don't get it. Was he so much better than me? I mean, that's not completely crazy. There are a lot of universes out there that have versions of me that are better. Some of them even still have their good looks, lucky bastards."

Before Wade could go on a rant about the unfairness of the multiverse, Peter took his chance. He felt like if he didn't straighten this out right now, he'd never get the chance to do it again. "He wasn't better than you. He didn't talk as much as you, but every time he was quiet, I hated it. I liked talking to him, but I really just thought of him as a friend." 

Thankfully, he seemed to have piqued his interest because he wasn't getting up to bodily throw Peter out. He was even still looking at him. "Then why did you sleep with him?" 

Peter shook his head, desperate to look anywhere but into his direct gaze but knowing that that was a terrible mistake and not wanting to risk it. "Because he was as close as I could get to you and I thought I was never coming home." At that, Wade's eyes widened in confusion. Taking advantage of that, Peter forced himself to keep going. "Wade, I.." He shook his head. "I think about you all the time. Every second we're together are my favorites of the day. I love being around you, even when you won't shut up or when I have to remind you not to kill anyone." He licked his lips and took a deep breath, grateful that Wade wasn't talking and he had the time to take his courage in hand. "I'm in love with you. I can't say how long I have been, but I know that it's true. I'm in love with you and I was too much of a coward to admit it." 

Wade stared at him for a long time, which was kind of not at all what Peter was expecting. When he was brave enough to imagine telling Wade all of this, he had expected elation and kissing, probably, hopefully, a couple rounds of amazing sex. He definitely wasn't expecting Wade to look at him like he had three heads and tentacles. "Get the fuck out." 

Peter blinked got a second, completely confused as to what was happening right now. Wade didn't leave him in suspense for long, though. He jumped forward, tackling Peter and punching him hard in the stomach. He almost threw up from the force of it and how much it hurt afterward. "Get the fuck out!" Wade stood up and grabbed him, shoving him out of the room. Peter barely had the time to grab his mask and gloves before he was being shoved into the living room and at the window. He quickly pulled them on and then opened the window. For a second, he looked back at him, confused and wanting to fix it. Wade just shoved him out the window.


	32. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short but whatevs.
> 
> I haven't really decided for sure if I figured out my next story. So like give a person a vote?
> 
> Sugar baby Trans!Peter   
> Everyone has weird powers   
> Peter has the venom symbiote 
> 
> I know those aren't very descriptive, but like, I don't want to give away all the fun details I've thought of :)

Obviously, he caught himself with a well placed web, but he was still shaking. He'd never seen Wade that mad before, at least not at him. He didn't know how to handle it. After a bit of slinging around, he made his way to a rooftop and sat there, his head in his hands and his legs over the edge. 

It just… It didn't make sense. Why would Wade be mad when he'd literally been asking for Peter to want him? That's exactly what he'd gotten. And he was angry about it? In what fucked up world did that make sense? 

That was his clue, and he honestly couldn't believe he'd been so stupid not to realize it sooner. 

Wade was crazy. Not the way most people assumed. They saw him as irresponsible and unpredictable and without morals. But he'd been hanging out with him for two years. There was a method to his madness, but he was definitely still a little unstable. It came from many things, Peter thought. He didn't think he was the most mentally stable even before weapon x. But after the cancer and his healing factor? His healing factor never really healed his cancer, just kept it in check. Just because he didn't really get tumors anymore didn't mean it wasn't still attacking his body. Sometimes it went for his brain and it really scrambled his eggs. Wade was _crazy_. In the most straightforward definition of that, he didn't make sense. 

Of course he'd have an unpredictable response to Peter's confession. Pair his constantly crumbling mental and emotional stability with his crippling self hatred, he probably didn't even realize that Peter was being serious. He'd talked about his voices before. He wouldn't he surprised to find they were telling him that he was lying or just messing with him. Wade wasn't changing his mind, he didn't think that Peter was serious. 

That realization made him laugh. He'd have to convince him he was serious. And yeah, that wasn't going to be easy. It was going to take a lot of work and a lot of convincing from him, but he knew what to do now. And Peter Parker had been called many things, but he'd never, not ever, been called a quitter. 

He was going to get his man.


	33. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, fuck it, yall. Just take it.
> 
> Still give me votes on the question for the last chapter! 
> 
> I've decided to post the last four chapters all together. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Theres some sexiness going on in here, yo)

It took months to finally find Wade, because he wasn't dumb enough to show up at his house uninvited. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. Technically, he found him two weeks after he got pushed out of the window. That time ended with Deadpool going after him and he barely managed to get away without broken bones. 

A week later, he almost caught up with him. Then, Deadpool dove through the window of an abandoned warehouse and Peter lost him while he went through it. 

A month later, he found him on a rooftop. But something must have alerted the ex-mercenary because he dived off the roof before Peter could get close. By the time he made it there and looked down, Wade was gone. 

Three weeks after that, he showed up to Avengers business, as they fought off doom bots. Obviously, Peter was too busy avoiding lazers and explosions to go over and talk to him. By the time the fight was over and they had some breathing room, he was gone. Peter growled in frustration and was maybe a little ungentle when he was loading some thugs into a police van the next night. 

Two weeks after that, he managed to catch Wade as he jumped off a building, presumably avoiding him. "Can you just chill for a god damn minute and let me talk to you?" 

For a moment, Deadpool just stared at him. "I've never heard you swear so casually."

Peter bent into his face as much as him web slinging to another rooftop could allow. "You're a fucking asshole, Wade Wilson." 

It probably shouldn't have been much of a surprise as it was, but as soon as they let down on a rooftop, Wade tried to jump off. Not wanting to deal with the drama of it, Peter webbed him back up onto the roof. Wade ended up on his back and Peter couldn't resist the opportunity. He webbed him down, each of his legs and both arms, so he couldn't get up. Then, he swung a leg over him, settling down on his hips.

First things first, he removed both their masks. This wasn't Spiderman talking to Deadpool. This was Peter talking to Wade. For a moment, he just looked at him. "Listen, I know you're chronically incapable of believing in good things. I know the boxes don't help. But I don't lie. I don't fuck around with peoples feelings and I don't say things I don't mean." Wade was stubbornly keeping his mouth shut and trying to look anywhere that wasn't Peter's face. "I was serious. I still am. I'm in love with you and I will tell you that every day, all day until you believe it." 

Wade looked hurt when his eyes finally met Peter's. "That's bullshit. Why would you love me? I'm a mercenary. I'm loud and obnoxious and crazy. Someone as perfect as you are could never love someone like me." 

"Okay, first of all, _ex-_ mercenary. You haven't taken an assassination job in two years and you use rubber bullets when we patrol." Peter put his hand over Wade's mouth when he opened it, probably to refute what he was saying. "And yeah. You are loud and obnoxious and crazy. But I love it. I love your jokes and your rants and the way you can talk about absolutely nothing for hours if no one interrupts you. I love how inappropriately affectionate you are. I love how you never give up, no matter how hard something is."

Slowly, he removed his hand. The look on Wade's face was still full of disbelief, but it didn't look so pained anymore. "Spidey, babe, Petey Pie, I look like chunky dog shit. Like a fucked up avocado. Like -" 

Peter put his hand back over his mouth, because he wasn't about to listen to the surely hours long rant about how bad his skin looked. "You also have the body of a gladiator and a jawline that could cut glass. You're eyes are fucking gorgeous and you're lips are surprisingly soft and kissable." He wasn't going to deny that his skin looked bad. But he'd honestly gotten so used to it, it didn't bother him at all. It was a part of Wade and because of that, Peter wanted to run his fingers over every inch of it, kiss it and soothe the pain. He wanted to memorize every new bump and dip of it as his healing factor rearranged it. 

Wade's eyes were wide, but Peter couldn't tell what emotion was in them. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his mouth. For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Wade licked his lips. "Will you kiss me? So I can try to believe this is real?" 

Peter didn't really need any time to do exactly that. He'd wanted to kiss him for forever. And now that Wade was asking for it? He wasn't going to lose this opportunity. He bent down and kissed him, starting off slow but unable to stop himself from deepening it. And Wade didn't seem to mind, opening his mouth up to him easily. He tasted like churros and it made Peter make a small, breathless sound in his throat. It was met with a growl from Wade and then the kiss was a lot dirtier. Teeth nipped at lips and soft sounds escaped them. It was slick and hot and it made Peter forget exactly where they were because all he wanted was more. He ground his hips down, happy to feel that Wade was hard in his suit just like Peter was. Honestly, it made a small wounded sound come out of him. He broke the kiss just long enough to rip the webs off of Wade's hands, wanting to feel his hands on him. 

Wade seemed to have the same thought. As soon as he was free, he was tugging off his gloves and then sliding his hot hands up and down Peter's body. When he finally gripped what Peter knew he wanted, he grunted and shifted up into his hips again. The hot hands on his ass increasing the pressure between them had Peter whining and moving his hips again. 

They were breathing too heavily to really kiss now. When their mouths met now, it was in short, slick moments. Then, they were both moaning. The sound of Wade's gravelly voice grunting and moaning under him just made Peter more turned on. There was already a definite wet patch growing in the crotch of his suit but he couldn't bring himself to do the smart thing and stop this. It felt too good to finally have Wade's hands on him. Nothing short of the apocalypse was going to pull them apart right this second. 

He'd miscalculated. With Wade doing nothing but grunt and moan between them, he'd figured that Wade must actually shut up for sex. And that turned out to be wrong. Once they both finally gave up on kissing, when all that was happening was they moaned and breathed in heaving gulps as their hips ground into each other, Wade opened his mouth. And holy shit, it was hot. 

"Oh, Pete. I bet you look so good naked, all flushed and fucked out. I want to see you on my cock, riding it like your life depends on it." The words weren't as smooth as they usually were from Wade, interrupted as they were with grunts. But they honestly just made Peter more frantic. Up until that exact moment, he hadn't realized he liked dirty talk. But that image made him so hot he felt like he was going to combust. He wanted it so _bad_. 

More absolutely filthy things came out of Wade's mouth, but Peter couldn't pin any of it down. It was just a couple minutes later that he was biting his lips savagely as his body sparked and sizzled and shook. As he came down, breathing heavy, he realized that Wade's hands weren't on his ass anymore. One was buried down the front of his own suit, obviously stroking himself off. Peter was transfixed by the sight enough that it took him a second to realize where Wade's other hand was. His fingertips were tracing over the outline of Peter's softening cock, playing with the completely soaked fabric. 

Peter licked his lips and tried to decide what to do. It was made infinitely harder because he was so distracted by the noises coming out of Wade and watching the way his hand was moving. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted. He reached forward, undoing the zipper and button of Wade's suit, tugging it down ruthlessly. When Wade's hand stilled, Peter grabbed it and made it keep moving. "No, baby. I just want to see. I want to see how you touch yourself and I want to see you come." The words were anything but smooth. Peter's face was on fire and he kept stumbling over them, but he wanted Wade to know he wanted this. 

No matter how awkwardly they were delivered, they seemed to do the trick. Wade's back arched as his hand sped up and then he was shooting his load in a truly impressive arc. It splattered across his shoulder and then the roof below them. Wade looked at Peter with a disgusted look on his face and he felt his stomach drop straight into his feet. "Wade?" 

"I got some on my cheek. My own spunk on my own cheek! How fucking gross is that? I mean, if it would have been your face I would have happily licked it off and said it was hot as hell. But my face? That's just fucking disgusting." 

For a moment, Peter just looked at him. Then, he slowly started to laugh. And then it was a full belly laugh as so much tension left him, it made him feel giddy. Wade joined him, laughing as he wiped his cheek and then scraped the resulting mess off on the roof. The situation wasn't as funny as it would seem from the way they were cackling, but things had been so stressful for so long and now everything felt nice and easy. It was a relief. 

When they finally calmed down, Peter bent back down to lay a soft kiss on Wade's mouth. The soft sigh that came out of him just had Peter reaching up to run his fingers over his cheekbone and up over his scalp. Wade closed his eyes, lightly leaning into the touch. "I love you." The words were soft, but they seemed to hit Wade like bullets. His eyes shot open and he looked at him, eyes wildly shooting around his face like he was looking for deception. Peter tried to let his emotions show on his face, how absolutely serious he was. Finally, Wade lifted his head to kiss him again, soft and sweet. 

They finally separated and Peter laid across him, not caring that Wade's cock was still out of his pants and he was starting to get sticky and gross in his own suit. They laid for a while, just breathing and holding each other, before Peter finally sighed and pushed himself up. "Well, I'm definitely not patrolling like this. And I miss our cat. Let's go back to your place." Wade grunted in agreement so Peter climbed off of him, ripping off the webbing on his feet while Wade tucked himself back in his suit and got himself situated again. 

Wade dug through his belt until he found a packet of wet wipes. He used it to clean the shoulder of his suit and, honestly, Peter was jealous. No amount of wet wipes was going to fix his own mess. At least the darker blue of this suit made it less likely that anyone was going to be able to see it. 

Wade climbed onto his back and Peter set off for his apartment. He felt a little guilty that he wasn't going to patrol for the night, but he'd barely taken one off since he started this whole Spiderman business. Maybe he deserved this.


	34. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is pretty much just smut. Like if that's not your thing you can just skip this chapter because not a damn thing important to the plot happens here.
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Mr Bigglesworth was thrilled to see the two of them. He got his affection from Wade, then came to Peter, purring like crazy. Even though the crotch of his suit was practically glued to his groin and his stomach was growling for the huge bags of takeout Wade had insisted they stop for, he pet the cat. He really had missed him. He pet him until Mr Bigglesworth got bored of it and walked away, then stood up and stretched. Wade raised a brow at the grimace Peter left out, but Peter's only response was pointing at his crotch. That earned him a smirk that had a flush starting across his cheeks. God, Wade was hot. 

With a smile, Peter realized he didn't have to hide that attraction anymore. He moved up to Wade and kissed him. "Come shower with me?" He swallowed but then he nodded, so Peter grabbed his hands and pulled him into the bathroom. 

The door was left open, because when it was closed, Mr Bigglesworth sat in front of it meowing incessantly until it opened again and he didn't want to be distracted by that. It took some work to get them both out of their suits, especially with the small space and the way his glue-like semen was stuck to his pubes and kept pulling them as he tried to separate the two. Finally, though, he managed it. And then, he was completely naked and a flush was working its way across his face and down his chest as he saw how Wade's eyes were trailing all over him. "You've seen me naked before, Wade." 

"Mm, no, not really." Wade didn't even attempt to look away from his body and Peter's cock twitched at the way he licked his lips. "It's always been when you were hurt and so I wasn't really looking. Now, you're all healthy and for some reason, you're okay with me touching you. So I'm going to look my fill until whatever traumatic brain injury you're trying to heal from goes away and you run screaming for the hills."

Peter shook his head, a small smile on his lips. He reached into the shower, turning the water on and waiting for it to reach a good temperature. Then, he reached and tugged Wade into the space with him. It wasn't easy, not with how big Wade was and how much showers were _not_ meant to hold two fully grown men. Peter was okay with it, though, because it meant they kept brushing into each other. His skin felt alive every time he felt Wade's against him. They cleaned themselves up, Peter paying careful attention to his groin and then to the skin between his cheeks. That… That had been pretty hot, actually. He'd just been cleaning, because he had plans, when he'd looked up to see Wade's eyes on his hand, dark with want. Smirking, Peter had leaned against the wall, lifting one leg up onto the edge of the tub so Wade had a better view. "Like what you see?" He was definitely exaggerating how much he needed to do, but he liked the way Wade was looking at him. He just wished he could finger himself open for him, but there wasn't any lube in here and he'd learned his lesson on using soap. It burned and didn't stop for a long time, and he really didn't want to have a burning asshole. He had plans. 

Wade's hand moved to his cock, stroking the half hard length. Peter raised his brow at him and then shook his head. "Nope, no touching. You're not allowed to touch yourself anymore tonight. If you're going to get off, I'm going to do it." His own cock twitched at the choked out moan Wade let out as his hand moved to the wall of the shower. 

There wasn't any more for him to tease Wade with since his crack was as clean as it was going to get. He rinsed in the spray and then grabbed Wade's hips, starting the awkward shuffle they'd been doing to switch places so they could both use the spray. When they were reversed, Peter smirked as he dropped to his knees. Wade sucked in a breath, and it reminded Peter of the way he was talking on the roof. He figured the man was being quiet now because he was still having a bit of a hard time believing this was real. Well, Peter wasn't above working hard for what he wanted. 

He licked along Wade's hips, purposely teasing him with hot breaths along his cock but not touching it. "You know," Peter looked up and stuck his tongue out, just barely running over Wade's slit. He choked out a moan and it made Peter smile. "I really liked the way you were talking on the roof. It was really freaking hot. Can you do it for me again? I want to hear everything you want." He slowly started stroking him, refusing to suck at him until Wade nodded. 

When he sucked him into his mouth, Wade let out a hissed breath. Peter didn't move, just had his cock as far in his mouth as he could go and looked up at him through his lashes. Finally, Wade got the hint. He let his mouth open and words fell out. Peter sucked him, letting his tongue trace over the divets in his skin, as he heard about how good he was and how beautiful. It only increased his reaction to giving head, making him hard even faster. 

Some people saw his young looking face and heard his juvenile quips and assumed he was some innocent kid. But he'd gone to college and been a teenage boy. He'd messed around, with guys and with girls. He knew what he liked, and he knew what he was good at. There were plenty of times in his life that he'd been complimented on his mouth and the things he could do with it. And honestly, he enjoyed it. It made him feel powerful and sexy. And the compliments he was getting from Wade, interspersed with gasps and moans, made it even better. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He reached between his legs and started stroking his own cock as he finally let his throat relax. With the hand currently not occupied, he grabbed Wade's hip and jerked it roughly forward, so his cock slid down his throat and he hopefully got his silent request. 

The move caused a bit of a shout from Wade, but he pulled his hips back as soon as he could. Peter made a soft sound of disappointment and stopped stroking himself. Apparently, that was what it took for Wade to understand. His cock twitched in his mouth and the man swallowed. "You.. You want me to fuck your mouth?" When Peter made a happy sound around him, he groaned. "Fuck, baby boy. That is so fucking hot." Thankfully, he didn't waste time after that. His fingers ran through Peter's hair finally gripping his hand tight in it. Peter let out a groan around his cock, squeezing his own as the sound was reflected out of Wade. Then, he started thrusting in and out, hard, keeping his grip on Peter's hair to control it. Peter gave himself to it, only managing to hold back his groans of pleasure because he physically couldn't breathe if he let them out. His hand moved rapidly over his dick as he approached another orgasm. Wade's sounds and praising words were too hot to ignore. He came, blissed out for a moment before he felt Wade pulsing in his mouth. It was the only warning he got because Wade stopped breathing as he came down his throat. 

Peter sucked him through it, then swallowed and pulled off his softening dick. It took a couple seconds for him to get the feeling back in his legs enough to stand up, and by then he just wanted to lean against Wade. That lasted all of two seconds before he jerked away. "The waters cold!" 

Wade laughed. "Yeah, has been for a little while." 

Peter reached around him to turn it off. "And you just didn't care?" 

"Well, I was in the middle of something." His tone of voice was full of humor and lust. It made Peter blush, which was ridiculous. He'd literally just gotten himself off on how he'd been fucking his mouth. Talking about it shouldn't make him blush. 

He stepped out of the shower, grabbing towels from the linen closet for the both of them. Peter loved Wade's towels. He always bought the softest, most fluffy towels he could and washed them with a system so they stayed that way. It was because rough towels irritated his skin, so Peter was glad that he did it. But also, it made him sad every time he had to use his own threadbare and scratchy towels at home. 

He dried off and then glanced at Wade. He was drying himself off, but his eyes were locked on Peter. Of course, Peter flushed and his dick was showing interest. He'd never really played around much with his refractory period, but he was starting to think that was exactly what tonight was going to be. He was addicted to Wade already. "So, uh, how often can you get it up in a night?" 

Wade grinned, wide and fierce. "I need about ten minutes between, but I can go all night. Of course, I usually just do it with my own hand, so I guess it's possible that it's not true when it's with someone else." He shrugged after. "What about you?" 

"No idea." Peter smiled at him, still flushed but definitely interested in seeing where it goes. "But I'm down to figure it out." 

That earned him a predatory grin and then a big, hot man right against him, kissing the sense out of his head. Peter melted into it, letting his towel drop as he wrapped his arms around Wade. After a moment, Wade's hands slipped down his body before sliding around and grasping his thighs, pulling them up and around his hips. Peter clung onto him easily and Wade carried him out of the room and into his bedroom. 

When he was dropped onto the bed, Peter let out a short laugh, but it was cut off by the fact that he could see so much of Wade. The light was on and his body was on full display. He let his eyes roam over the wonderful, muscular lines of it, licking his lips without realizing it. "Come here." 

Wade looked a little unsure for a moment, but he eventually gave in, settling himself over him. Peter kissed him, softly at first and then letting it deepen naturally. It took a moment, but Wade relaxed into it, and Peter took advantage of it. He rolled the two of them over so he was over top of him, then dragged his mouth down. He kissed along his neck and shoulders and chest, then licked his way across his abs. Wade kept taking soft, shaky breaths. Peter assumed he was working through some issues and wanted to give him time to do it. Then, he came up, letting his hands run over his body. "When I first met you, I kept thinking you were obnoxious and dangerous, but you know what?" He didn't let Wade answer, just pressed a wet kiss to his left hip bone, right where his muscles vee'd into his groin. Wade moaned softly. "I couldn't quite get the way you fill out your suit out of my head. I've always been into muscular guys, but you were like my own walking fantasy walking around in leather." 

Wade grabbed a pillow, pulling it under his head and gripping it as he looked at Peter. He seemed content to let him just worship his body for a while. "I managed to ignore it hard enough for a while, but when I was in that other world, I started thinking about it again." He smiled and then pushed his thighs apart. He laid kisses along his thighs, sloppy wet ones with tongue and teeth. "And I wanted you, so bad." He gently bit his thigh, just above his knee. At the gasp Wade let out, he came back up with a smile. "You remember when you dug that bullet out of my thigh?" At Wade's confused nod, Peter smiled again and then bent to kiss up one thigh and then down the other. He was obviously enjoying it, if how red and slick his cock was was any indication. "I had a dream about that night when I was there, but it ended _very_ differently. This time, I let you see how hard I got when you were putting the bandage on. And then you wrapped your hand around me and I was so, so close when I woke up." He made his way lower, kissing his calves and down to his ankles. "I jerked myself off when I woke up, and I came so hard just picturing that it was your hand on me instead of my own." 

He moaned and his cock twitched. Peter's eyes were glued to it as he realized that Wade hadn't touched his cock yet at all. Well, that could change. He moved back up his body, until their hard dicks were pressed together. "Lube?" Wade reached over, frantically digging through his bedside table until he came up with a large bottle. Peter laughed for a second, because just the size of it said Wade was jerking off pretty often. How often was it to thoughts about him? That thought just made him harder. He took the bottle from him and then grabbed Wade's right hand, spreading lube on it and then on his own. It didn't require any talking after that. Both of their hands wrapped around their clocks, pressed together. They stroked along their cocks while they kissed, but after a while, Peter wanted more. He started thrusting into their hands, earning moans from Wade. Once they both came with small shouts, Wade cleaned them up with the towel that had somehow made its way into the room with them. 

Peter rolled off of him, settling on his side on the bed. He was hungry and a little sleepy. Of course, what he'd said earlier definitely prevented him from that. After Wade dropped the towel to the ground, he grabbed Peter's hips, turning him until he was on his stomach and then pulling him up until he rested on his knees. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but he was willing to go along with it. Wade wouldn't hurt him and there were very good chances that it would feel really, really good, whatever it was. 

"Has anyone ever ate you out?" The words almost made Peter choke. They were said so nonchalantly, like the words weren't designed to make him swallow his tongue. 

Peter shook his head. "No. I've never…" 

Wade groaned. "Every one of your past lovers should be shot. It's so fucking good, baby. You're going to love it. Can I do it for you?" 

How could he say no to that? "Yeah, okay." 

Wade bent over, obviously taking it slow so Peter could adjust. At first, there were little kissed placed all along his crack. It felt a little odd, but he was willing to feel it out for a little while. Then, Wade started to add his tongue. It still felt a little odd, but it got better pretty fast. As Peter started making little sounds in the back of his throat, Wade got more intense. 

He should feel grossed out by how much spit was on his ass, but he couldn't dredge the feeling up if he tried. Wade licked at him like he was eating something delicious and that thought just made it hotter. It felt so good. Peter was clenching his hands over and over again in the sheets and he'd given up attempting to be quiet. He moaned, over and over again until he felt like he was going to hyperventilate as his tongue worked its way, bit by bit, into his hole. "Wade!" It was only a strong grip on his hips that kept him from rocking back into the feeling. "Baby, baby please." He groaned.

Finally, _finally_ , he got something. He moaned as a slick finger slipped inside of him, Wade's mouth still licking at the tight skin around it. "More, Wade. Now." 

Wade chuckled, but he listened. He slipped a second finger into him and when Peter whined impatiently, he pressed a third in. It stung, Peter wouldn't deny it, but it felt so, so good. He rocked into his hand, moaning as it stretched him open perfectly. He liked it a little rough, so sue him. 

"Condom?" Peter managed to gasp it out. 

Wade's answer was just as breathless. "I can't carry anything." Peter just nodded because that was fine with him. He didn't care. 

"Then fuck me." Wade choked but he wasn't working fast enough. "Wade, I swear to God, if you don't fuck me in the next ten seconds, I'll -" The words were abruptly cut off with a gasping moan as Wade pressed inside him. Even three fingers wasn't enough to open him up wide enough for his frankly monstrous cock, but he'd known that after sucking him off. The sting just made goosebumps trail up his back as he moaned again, letting his body adjust. He hung his head, just listening to the ragged breaths behind him for a moment. Then, he spoke. "Move." His voice was low and rough, completely confident that he would be obeyed. 

And he was. 

Wade started rocking his hips into him, short shallow thrusts that made Peter moan. Each tiny bit of movement sent sparks down his skin and he didn't want it to end for the next ten years or so. Once his body adjusted to it, though, he wanted more. Wade was treating him like he was going to break at any second. And he'd just come three times in as many hours, he needed more to get there again. "Harder, Wade. Fuck me for real. I'm not going to break." 

Wade stopped moving, his breath harsh in his chest. "You're going to kill me, Petey." Peter looked back at him, over his shoulder. His lover bit his lip and then lifted one leg, preparing to get better leverage. It made Peter smile. And then one of Wade's hands came up, gripping onto Peter's sweat damp hair. The angle forced Peter's head back and arched his back. It made him moan loudly, suddenly lost for words. Wade made up for it, though, as he started fucking into him hard. "You're so fucking tight, baby. I could fuck you every second of every day and it still wouldn't be enough. And you're so fucking flexible. I can't wait to see how many ways I can bend you and make you come. I have so many ideas and I'm going to do all of them. I'm going to fucking ruin these sheets with you, make you weak with how many times you've taken my cock. Make it so you can't even walk."

The words seemed to go straight to his bloodstream. They were accompanied by the sound of their sweaty, hot skin slapping together, and the loud, desperate moans coming out of Peter, almost loud enough to be called shouts. All of it was so much. Peter was going to explode into a million stars and float away, he was so incredibly turned on. And then, for the first time in his life, he came without touching himself. He shouted, feeling every muscle in his body tense up, before spurting his tiny little amount of seed onto the bed. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" Wade slammed into his ass twice more and then Peter felt his cock pulsing inside him. If he hadn't just experienced the orgasm of his life, he'd have gotten hard at the feeling of it. 

As it was, he dropped onto the bed when Wade let him go, breathing heavy and feeling weak. Wade dropped half on top of him, pressing sloppy kisses to his shoulder. It made Peter laugh, but he didn't do anything about it for a moment. Then, he turned and kissed him, sloppy and uncoordinated. Finally, he crawled on top of him. "What are you doing, Petey Pie?" 

Peter smiled at him, knowing his hair was a fucked out mess and that his cheeks were probably red with exertion. "I told you, I want to find out how many times I can come in a night. I thought you were going to help me?" 

Wade groaned, squeezing Peter's hips hard. "You're going to be the death of me, baby boy." 

"It's a good thing you can't stay dead, then, right?" He bent down to kiss him, starting to rock their hips together as each of them slowly filled again.


	35. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy!

Peter lost track of how many times they made each other come that night. All he knew was that dawn was coming when he let Wade put him back in the shower, though he didn't have the energy to wash himself. Wade climbed in with him, his gentle hands at odds with how often their sex had been rough. When they were both clean again, he set Peter on the counter and kissed his forehead softly before handing him a toothbrush, already prepped with toothpaste. "All you gotta do is brush your teeth, baby. I'll get the bed ready." 

It should have been an easy job. After all, he'd been brushing his teeth at least twice a day for his entire life, and by himself for only a few years less. But he was so incredibly exhausted that it felt just as impossible as it surely did when he was first handed a toothbrush. He managed, because he didn't give up, but it wasn't easy. After that, he was supposed to walk back to the bedroom? 

He didn't. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. When he woke up, it was to Wade grabbing him bridal style and carrying him into the bedroom. Peter was asleep before he hit the bed. 

When he woke up, it was to a face full of black hair and the smell of sweet and sour chicken. Groggy still, he rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. There was no way he was going to forget what he'd done last night, since not even his healing factor had managed to completely get rid of the soreness in his ass. Still, it took him a second to realize that Wade was staring at him from across the room, all of their takeout from last night arranged on a breakfast tray. Peter smiled at him. "You going to bring that over here so we can eat?" He knew what was going through Wade's head. The dumb man was doubting that this was real, probably thinking that Peter was going to jump out of bed and tell him it was all a mistake. 

Wade moved, at least, crawling on the bed in his pajama pants and placing the tray between them once Peter had sat up. He handed Peter a pair of chopsticks and then seemed determined to leave absolutely no room for Peter to even attempt to speak. "I'd usually make pancakes or something but then I figured I didn't want all of this to go to waste so I heated it up instead. But if you'd rather have pancakes, I can make those! It's not a big deal at all. We'll just dump all this in the trash and I'll make pancakes. I have chocolate chips, blueberries, bananas, and strawberries, so I could make a pretty good spread. Oh, and I have orange juice, the good, fresh squeezed kind you have to make yourself. Or, well, if we're being totally honest, I have oranges and something that I think is either a juicer, or some really kinky sex toy that got slipped into my kitchen accidentally. Not that that would be that weird, I mean, I once found a butt plug in my cutlery. And since I didn't know where it was from, I just threw it all out and had to get new. I lost my favorite spoon then and I've never - "

Wade finally stopped when Peter pressed a piece of chicken in his mouth. He hadn't done much besides push his own beef with broccoli around in its bowl. As he chewed, he looked at Peter with wide eyes. For some reason, he was pretending to have manners and didn't just keep talking. That was fine, though, it left Peter an opening. "I know you think that if you talk enough, you won't have to hear me reject you, but you're wrong. I'm not going to reject you at all. I started a pretty decent amount of what we got up to last night and I do not, not even the slightest bit, regret it. I'm glad we did it. The only thing I wish I could change was that I'd opened up and convinced you to do it earlier because it turns out I've been missing out on the best sex of my fucking life." 

He didn't stop staring, but finally he smiled. "You swore." Peter, his mouth full of a bite of delicious pineapple, just blinked at him. "You only do that when you're really passionate." He swallowed, ready to defend himself from the glint he saw forming in Wade's eye, but he was too late. "You're passionate about fucking me. Oh, baby boy, I have a whole world to show you. You're never going to be able to walk straight again." 

Peter flushed and then pointedly pushed his bowl closer to him as he dumped a helping of beef fried rice into his now empty bowl. "Eat. You're going to have to have energy to do all that, and you only have about two hours to make it happen because it's Sunday and I have to go see Aunt May." 

They didn't actually end up having sex again. Instead, they cuddled on the couch with Mr Bigglesworth while they watched TV. There were kisses, and definitely hands on bare skin, but it sent a flutter through his heart instead of his dick. It was obvious they were extremely attracted to each other, but there was also more to it than that. 

When Peter had to leave to get home in time to change and not be late, they shared a lingering kiss at the door. Peter was smiling as he slipped his freshly washed mask over his face. Thank God Wade had a laundry room in his building because Peter would have died if he had to sling home in the daylight in his cum stained suit. 

That night, at May's, he couldn't hold it in. He told her all about his victory in attracting Wade, not mentioning any of the many times they'd gotten off together. Judging from her face, though, she had no problem seeing beyond his words. It made Peter flush, but it couldn't wipe the smile off his face.


	36. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that we're at the epilogue, I can let you in on my little secret.
> 
> This fic is 100% unbetad.
> 
> This fic is also 100%, every single word, written from my phone.
> 
> I feel like this is an achievement. :)

Peter watched as Wade fidgeted in front of the mirror. He was obsessively messing with the top button of his shirt, doing it up and then undoing it. It was a deep red, the same as his suit, but he didn't look like the color was reassuring him at all. Finally, with a smile, he took pity on him and turned him around. He unbuttoned the button and then smiled at him. "Babe, you're going to be fine." Coming up on his tippy toes, he pressed another kiss to his lips. "Everyone is going to love you." Wade raised one hairless eyebrow at him. "Okay, May is going to love you. Everyone else can go suck a donkey dick." 

That released some of his tension. Wade started laughing, letting his hands come up to rest on his hips. It took him a few seconds to calm down, but Peter didn't mind. He just smiled and let his hands rest on his shoulders. When he was calm, there was definitely less tension in his shoulders. "I love that I've corrupted you enough to make you swear casually." 

Peter rolled his eyes. "You act like I was a blushing virgin." He cut Wade off before he could bring up his blushing habit, resting his hand against his mouth. "Now, it's my birthday and I'd really like it if my boyfriend would just calm down and come to dinner with me." 

There was a more serious look to his face when he nodded. Wade had agreed to this without Peter having to ask more than once. He knew his boyfriend wanted to celebrate with him, even if he was intimidated by meeting his Aunt, but he was a little uncomfortable with the rest of the party. Somehow, the whole thing had gotten blown out of proportion. It wasn't going to be a quiet dinner at May's with Ned like usual, but now it was a huge to do. All of the Avengers were coming, and Tony had booked a restaurant, the whole thing, for it. Wade had probably seriously considered not going, but he calmed down when he realized it was still only going to be Ned and May that hadn't seen his skin before. 

They shrugged on their jackets, Wade's with a deep hood he could hide behind, and then stepped out of the apartment they shared, since Peter had moved out of his shitty one about three months ago, just a few weeks after they officially got together. When he saw what waited for them, he sighed. How had he not guessed. Wade, of course, let out a holler. "Oh, hell yes. We are riding in style, baby boy!" Because, of course, Tony had sent a limo to pick them up. Never mind that the restaurant was only four blocks from their apartment. 

They rolled up to the restaurant, Wade having squeezed up behind the driver and keeping himself busy by talking his ear off while Peter put his head in his hands and wondered how he had gotten tangled up with such extra people. He got out as quickly as he could, and then held his hand out to help Wade out. They both took a few deep breaths before they stepped inside. 

It honestly wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be. There were definitely an outrageous amount of streamers and balloons, in red and blue, of course. There was confetti all over the ground, which Peter hoped Tony was paying extra to clean up. But there wasn't a giant spider display, or a giant cake. So far, anyway. There was just one long table in the center, all the unused tables pulled to the sides. May and Ned sat across from the only empty spots, smack dab in the middle of the tables. Peter smiled and pulled Wade toward them. 

As soon as people realized they'd arrived, there was a loud round of whistles, cheers, and clapping, as a few people started singing happy birthday. Considering they all called him different things, it was just a mess in the middle. Peter just laughed and felt his cheeks turn red. After that, everyone turned back to their menus and conversations. Peter introduced May and Ned to Wade, and then tried to help them make conversation. It was hard, though, when it had been hours since he'd eaten and Peter and Wade had spent time in various levels of compromising positions between now and then. The thought of it had him pressing his knee against Wade. He was so happy. 

At first, the conversation between them was stilted. Then, they somehow got Wade talking about how great Peter was, which left him blushing and hiding behind his menu, but made both his aunt and his best friend nod in approval. Wade must have sensed their thawing, because he relaxed. After that, he was more normal, though he still seemed to be in his best behavior because he didn't swear quite so much and he managed to keep the stories about maiming and mayhem to a minimum. Peter was very proud. 

They managed to survive the night unscathed until it was time for them to leave. Everyone had eaten, Thor had shared around his Asgardian liquor for those that were too suped to be able to be affected by the earthly stuff. Peter himself was a little tipsy, but in that bright and shiny way that just made him giggly. That was when it was rolled out. A giant, six tier cake with blue and red frosting, topped by a giant chocolate spider. Peter laughed so hard that Wade had to keep him standing, but he ate three big pieces of it. After that, they all left. 

Back at home, Peter gently peeled Wade out of his clothes, whispering how much he loved him into his skin as he kissed him. They did what they rarely did, made love slowly and sweetly, then curled up together. Peter's last thought was that he was so amazingly happy. He had a great family, a wonderful job at Stark Industries, a fulfilling calling in being Spiderman, and an amazing boyfriend. Mr Bigglesworth climbed up to settle on his pillow and Peter snorted. And he had a pretty sweet cat. 

What wasn't there to be happy about?


	37. Epilogue 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people asked for this and I agreed it was a good idea. This isn't fully fleshed out, just a tie up so everyone can know how things ended in the other universe.

Peter woke up on the floor of a castle. He had a note in his hand. After blinking for a second, he jumped up and looked around, but everything was as it should be. As interesting as those bits of 'technology' he'd seen had been, he was glad to be back to where things made sense. He finally opened up the letter and then blinked. When he moved to the mirror, he blushed when he saw the marks on his neck. He knew what those were from. 

For a moment, he was angry at that other Peter. How dare he use his body that way? But what was the point in being angry over it? It was done with and there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He finished dressing himself and then followed his nose to the dining room. Food was set out at two chairs, and he was a little dismayed to see that they were indeed very close to each other. Still, he knew what he had to do. He sat down at his place and started eating. When he was joined by a scarred man in loose clothing, he smiled hesitantly at him. The scars weren't that bad, really. His ears were a little weird, very similar to a wolf's, but it was fine. 

Once he gave himself up to the other Peter's advice, things went surprisingly well. Wade was actually a very sweet man, a gentleman if he ignored the fact that he ate raw meat. They fell into a friendship and then… 

It was actually amazing, the first morning Peter woke up in Wade's bed. He felt so safe and in love. He turned and pressed kisses into the shoulder nearest him, tucking his arm around him. They spent hours there before they dragged themselves downstairs for food. 

When Wade showed Peter what he had been working on, transforming a few of the dungeons into workrooms for him to work on his clockwork inventions, Peter turned and threw himself into his arms. "I love it. Wade, I love _you._ " 

Like some kind of badly timed explosion, light filled the room, light so bright that Peter jerked away and threw an arm over his eyes to protect them. 

"Peter!" 

The light had died down by the time he heard his name. Peter pulled his arm down slowly. When he could see clearly, he saw the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, standing in front of him in Wade's loose clothing. ".. Wade?" His suspicions were confirmed at the smile the man gave. It was Wade's smile. "Wade!" 

Suddenly, they were surrounded by people. They were laughing and hugging each other, then Wade and finally Peter. 

The next few days were a whirlwind. The servants started planning a wedding while people from the village made their way to the castle. The curse was broken. The people remembered their Prince and they were pleased to find that he had found a consort. 

The wedding was wonderful, beautiful and joyous. Peter only got a little pale when a small circlet was placed on his head. The way that Wade smiled at him afterward fixed every one of his worries. 

Harry's frown was the only sour spot in the celebration, and it only lasted a little while before Mary Jane had him smiling and dancing with her. 

Everyone was going to live happily ever after.


End file.
